Examining it, I found the circle of the ‘o’ in word ‘Holt’ on the spine had been colored in black. The book opened and closed, with nothing shaking out of it.

I pried at it, got my fingernails under it, and pulled it out. It was the eye camera that Kenzie had placed in Ashley’s eye. It had phased into the book, the extra bits almost invisible, they were so phased out.

“The books you were talking about,” I said.

“My care package. It comes with a way to keep a better eye on things.”

“You helped?” I asked Chris.

“The tech I had on me that they looked at was what let her get access to the security cameras,” Chris replied.

“Let me get this straight,” Tristan said. “You hacked a secure facility. Using a… virus?”

“Vector of attack,” Kenzie said. “Yes.”

“Chris feigns being an asshole to buy time to hack in—”

“I didn’t feign, thank you,” Chris said.

“You had and have control of prison oversight now,” Tristan continued down his list.

“Yes,” Kenzie replied.

“And you snuck in a camera—multiple cameras.”

“One for Ash and one for Rain,” Kenzie said. “So I can show you stuff, and we can communicate with them, and it gets a lot easier to do stuff. Look, look, I can show you—”

She swiveled around and then hit buttons.

“Kenzie, stop,” Sveta said. “We need to discuss this, then we need to discuss what we do with the aftermath.”

“Too late. Feed’s up,” Kenzie said. “Sorry.”

“I’ll cover your entire system in stone if you aren’t careful,” Tristan said. “Soak it in water. You’re getting carried away.”

“I’m saying we might need to get a little carried away because the whole situation is carried away. I had to do this little dodgy thing, but it means we can communicate better with them, and we definitely need that. It means we can communicate more to other teams, and that’s super important.”

The projected icon showed a slice of Ashley’s cell.

“This is old footage,” Kenzie said. “About half an hour ago. She figured it out.”

The image distorted, the book’s perspective shifting.

As Ashley’s prosthetic hand reached in, almost covering up the lens in entirety, it was momentarily possible to see the artificial texture of the thumb-tip.

“I can’t get you out,” she murmured, her voice amplified by the speakers.

There was a thud as the book was allowed to fall to the table.

“Problem?” Ashley asked, audible through the computer speakers.

“I need your claws.”

“They’re mine, and I’m not about to hand them over. I like looking dangerous.”

“To pry something free. And for something else.”

“Pry? Now I’m curious.”

“Voice down for the camera. Come. Here, see the ‘o’?”

“I see it. You want it cut out?”