He can’t go far

Across town, in a high-rise suffused with artificial light and the smell of expensive perfume, Lila sat very still in her dressing room. The flash drive she had destroyed last night had been crushed beneath the heel of a bottle of lacquer and then ground into the floor with her boot. She had watched the plastic shatter into tiny black teeth and she had felt something like satisfaction. It was a neat act, physical and final, the kind of gesture that lives on as proof of ...