My laptop sits on Alexandre's desk like a lighthouse beacon, calling me home.
I slip onto the black leather chair and raise the screen.
When I push the start button, the hum of the power supply kicks in, and the system comes to life.
My eyes are drawn to the little circle centered at the top of my screen. Looking around his desk, I search for tape or something to cover the camera with - just in case.
On the shelf to my right is a row of multi-colored paper document flags. I peel off a couple of the thin dark blue flags and stick them over the camera lens.
I frown, wondering if my password still works, or if it was changed when Mike went through my computer.
Sighing, I also wonder what all he and Alexandre looked through. I'll have to talk to Alexandre about privacy and the perimete
