Page 107 of Stay Scared

His fingers curl once against the edge of the desk.

There.

Small enough that I might have missed it if he hadn’t trained me to notice small things.

“What kind?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“That seems inefficient.”

“You’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m sitting in front of you while you erase several months of my life.”

“My life.”

His mouth tightens. “Accurate correction.”

I lean against the desk beside him. “What do you do when you can’t sleep?”

Owen’s eyes move toward the extraction timer.

I follow them.

“You do that every time you don’t want to answer.”

His attention returns to me.

“Do what?”

“Look at a screen before you speak.”

For the first time since entering this room, Owen seems genuinely caught.

It lasts less than a second.

I smile. “Interesting.”

“You’ve had an unusually educational evening.”

“What do you do?”

He rubs his thumb along the side of his index finger. Another movement I’ve seen twice tonight and never understood.

“I repair things.”

“What things?”

“Usually cameras.”

“That barely counts as a hobby.”

“I wasn’t aware insomnia required one.”

“What if nothing is broken?”

“I take something apart until it qualifies.”