The peel coiled on the counter like a green ribbon.

Then I went over to the living room window.

The apartment glass made my reflection look dark and thin.

I squared my shoulders at it.

The woman in the glass squared hers a beat sooner.

Marcus called at six forty the next morning, before I had even switched on my kitchen light.

He said the archive had turned up a name.

I found him at his desk with two monitors open and a cup of coffee gone cold.