“Mara, oh my god, don’t move,” Sarah sobbed.

“I’m fine, Sarah,” I lied.

“You’re bleeding from your face.”

“I know. Just stay behind me.”

Daniel took a panicked step back, pointing at the ceiling. “Turn those cameras off right now, Mara!”

“I can’t,” I said. “They aren’t recording to a hard drive. They’re livestreaming to my attorney’s secure server. And, as of five minutes ago — to the FBI.”