By the time Ryan stumbled into Vertex Dynamics the next morning, he had already spent twelve hours learning what power felt like when it stopped answering to him.
His house key failed first. Then the biometric lock flashed red and told him access denied in a bright, cheerful voice that sounded almost obscene in the quiet of midnight. After that his black card declined at the twenty-four-hour hotel down the street, then again at the gas station, then again when he tried to order a car with the app he thought was tied to his account but was actually tied to mine.
He had sent me thirteen texts before sunrise.
At first they were angry. Then they were confused. Then they turned ugly again, because men like Ryan usually loop through rage before they admit fear has entered the room. By the time he wrote, “What kind of game are you playing?” I was already awake in the penthouse suite of the Langford Hotel, nursing one twin while the other slept beside my laptop and the company calendar glowed open on the screen.
I had not slept much.