Tyler
The hour felt like six.
Connor cleaned up the kitchen. Erica sat at the table reading every article that came up since the alert, going through them one by one with that focused look she got when she was pulling something apart. Not panicking. Just — working.
I sat with my hands around a mug and tried not to put them through the wall.
"Stop," Erica said without looking up.
"I'm not doing anything."
"You're doing that thing where you go completely still and it's somehow louder than if you were actually shouting." She didn't look up. "Stop it."
Connor made a sound from the sink.
"Something funny?" I said.
"No," he said. Too quickly.
I watched the clock on the kitchen wall tick through forty minutes.
Erica put her phone face down.
"They still haven't named me," she said. "An
