The phone felt heavier in Lila's hands than it should have, considering it was just plastic and metal, circuits and glass. She sat on the edge of their bed in the early morning light, the device balanced on her palm like something fragile that might shatter if she moved too quickly. Through the window, she could see Regan already moving through the vineyard rows with Mercy trotting beside him, checking the vines with the methodical care that had become second nature to them both.
Her thumb hovered over the screen, cursor blinking patiently next to the last encrypted messaging app she had installed. There had been dozens over the years—apps that promised anonymity, that routed messages through servers in countries she'd never visited, that required passwords within passwords and deleted co
