Tidy little alphanumeric codes, like something out of a laboratory, or an evidence locker, or a television show about people who do very bad things for a living.

My mouth went completely, instantly dry.

I felt my pulse pick up and begin to hammer against my ribs, hard, fast, the way it does when your body has understood something alarming a full second before your mind has caught up.

“What on earth is this?” I whispered, and my voice sounded strange and far away in the empty room.

“No,” I said.