I didn’t cry.
And I didn’t stare anxiously at the two-way mirror.
I sat perfectly still, regulating my breathing, dropping my resting heart rate back to a baseline of 60 beats per minute.
I mentally mapped out the exact network architecture of the local cellular towers, the GPS refresh rates of modern luxury SUVs, and the biometric syncing protocols of my personal devices.
I was building the gallows for my family, line by line of code in my head.
Forty-five minutes later, the deadbolt snapped open.
A man in a
