I spend the better part of an hour poring over that video. The second time I watch it, I want to take a shower, one that will blast out the inside of my skull. After the fourth time, a numbness settles in, like I knew it would. The video is still horrifying, but I can now see the horrific part at a remove, as if it’s behind layers of clear bubble wrap. That allows me to be more objective, analytical. And I see:

The chair Tane is strapped to has a wooden frame and dark red upholstery on the seat and on the back. Could be a hotel brand.

The wall behind Tane is a dove gray, unbroken by windows or doors or paintings, not even so much as a nailhead.

The floor is out of frame—I can only see Tane from the knees up.

The light from overhead is bright, too bright for a sixty-watt bulb—more like a fluorescent light.

The tape over Tane’s mouth is a dull silver, standard duct tape, the same kind of tape that is wrapped around his arms and legs and keeps him in the chair.

The blindfold over Tane’s eyes is a black rag, maybe a T-shirt, maybe not.

When Finn slices off Tane’s earlobe, blood spurts and then starts running down Tane’s neck, soaking the neckline and right shoulder of his T-shirt. It’s the same T-shirt I saw him wearing in the video Finn showed me last night. He must be filthy. God, I hope Finn cleaned and bandaged his ear.

Last night. Same shirt as he wore in the video last night … I watch today’s video once more, this time with the sound off so I can focus on the visual. And there it is. Or rather, there it isn’t.

I call Caesar. As soon as he answers I say, “Finn disarmed the plastic explosive for the video. There’s no clock, no wires. So Tane’s not on a hair trigger or anything.”

“I missed that.” Caesar sounds genuinely disappointed in himself. “Did you figure out the floor?”

“I can’t see the floor. It’s out of frame.”

“I can’t see the floor. I can’t hear it, either.”

“What?”

“Watch when Tane is flopping around after Finn cuts off his earlobe.”