The note sat on the desk under the coffee spoon, weighted there with the small careful precision of a man who had not been in a hurry while he wrote it.
The Hacker left it where it was.
She was studying the kettle.
The kettle was on the small countertop where it had been left, which was not where she had left it the last time she'd been in this room. The spout was facing the sink. She always faced the spout at the wall, because she had once burned her hand grabbing it blind off a hot plate, and she had decided after that to always face the spout at the wall. The kettle was facing the sink.
Caleb watched her notice it.
Caleb held quiet, watching for the part of her the gala suit and operational register had failed to hide.
It lasted half a second.
Then she walked across the room to the kettle, turned it ninety degrees so the spout pointed at the tile, and let her hand stay on the handle a moment longer than turning the kettle required.
