The doors opened.
The private landing. One door. I had my key out before the elevator finished opening and I covered the three steps to the door in one movement and the key went in and the lock turned and I pushed the door open.
The apartment.
My eyes went everywhere at once the way they did in unknown situations, the full sweep, automatic, total, taking in everything simultaneously and looking for the thing that was wrong. Main room clear. Kitchen clear. The book on the shelf with the camera in its spine had something against it, a folded piece of paper pushed against the lens, neat and deliberate, which told me everything about how the feed had gone black and also told me that whoever had done it had known exactly where to look, had swept the room before starting, had done to this cam
