The Wire That Stopped at My Kitchen Table
“I wasn’t trying to.
She told me to type it.” She turned the tablet around, and there on the setup screen was a password hint she had not been able to avoid reading: a word followed by a four-digit year.
“She used the same one for the tablet and the email,” Zoe said.
“And the backup.”
“What was it?”
She hesitated, loyal even now.
“Her dog’s name.