By morning, the system had learned something new about us.
So had I.
Silas's jealousy began in his right hand.
Not his face. Not his voice. Pressure increased through his fingers first, followed by a measurable narrowing of attention and, only then, physical movement toward me.
The sequence was consistent.
Repeatable.
I wanted to know whether it was predictable.
Renate arrived during rehearsal with the revised medical parameters for my NIRVANA contract.
Silas remained behind the studio glass, speaking to Elena.
His overlay was visible on the control screen beside my water.
He had authorized the access himself.
That did not make what I was about to do kind.
"Your hand," Renate said.
I gave it to him.
He checked the injured finger, then rotated my wrist carefully.
On the scree
