Page 77 of Coldwire
“How did that get there?” I whisper.
“Engineer with a sense of humor,” Kieren replies. I suppose it’s either that, or StrangeLoom decided bee populations were lacking in Upsie. “Ready?”
I nod. I send Rayna a message, asking her to begin. She returns a smiley face, which I assume means she’s working on it.
Kieren leans back against the wall. I bounce up and down on my toes. A minute passes.
“Read anything good lately?” I ask.
“What is this?”
I tilt my head. “What?”
“You’re making small talk? Before we commit burglary?”
Still no indication that anything has been triggered to pull security away from Chung’s apartment.
“We might not take anything,” I muse.
“Burglary is just the act of breaking and entering.” Kieren’s not facing me, but I know he’s got a smug twist to his mouth. “It doesn’t need to involve theft. Common misconception.”
“Do you get physically itchy if you don’t correct me? Genuine question.”
There must be a loudspeaker installed somewhere above us. A sudden, folksy tune starts to play, floating over from one of the balconies.
“You don’t see me scratching, do you?” he asks.
I groan. We settle into a lull. I send Rayna another message, prompting a time estimate for what exactly she’s working on.
“I’ve been reading a lot of comic books lately,” Kieren offers after another minute.
“Cool,” I say. “Any standouts?”
Kieren shrugs. “I’m pretty much just catching up on one old series. It’s about a boy who—”
Chung’s building lets out an earsplitting shriek. Fire alarm. Rayna sends a reply telling me the back door stairwell has all its cameras down, and I’m on the move instantly. Kieren knows to follow suit without my prompting. We’re up the steps in two strides, the heavy back door depositing us directly into the stairwell.
The fire alarm turns faint here, blocked by the insulation in the walls. Kieren surges ahead, taking advantage of his long legs on the stairs. Though I keep pace, I have to pretend not to be slightly out of breath by the time we’re at the ninth floor. I’m sure Kieren’s doing the same.
“Hailey, have you got the front door?” Kieren asks out loud. He must have opted to connect to a call rather than text.
We press into the hallway. I scan the corners first: the camera lights are dulled and down. Thankfully the doormen in this building aren’t bots. They’re not checking system updates. They can only rely on the visuals.
Kieren approaches Chung’s apartment and tugs open the door smoothly, holding it for me to slip in first.
Immediately, my neck prickles. The door closes after us with a click, and I take a deep, stale breath. A stack of magazines on the dining table. Various umbrellas hanging from the coatrack. Even a half-eaten bunch of grapes left in the fruit bowl.
“The safe is probably in the bedroom, right?” Kieren says.
I make a vague affirmative noise. While Kieren goes to the bedroom, I wander into the kitchen, positioning myself in front of the window briefly to offer a thumbs-up. Then I trail my fingers along the stove. I wipe the edge of the gas knobs.
“I’ve found the safe, Ward,” Kieren calls, his voice echoing through the apartment. “Where’d you go?”
Outside, the fire alarm is still ringing, though I don’t hear any resident leaving to evacuate. We’re upcountry—the same protocols for safety exist, but there’s little danger in what a fire can actually do. They’re all just waiting for it to stop screeching.
I hurry to join Kieren. The bedroom is a similar situation to the living area. There’s balled-up socks in the corner. A glass of water too close to the edge of the bedside table.
It all soperfectlyresembles a scene mid-motion.
