Then he looked at his laptop screen.
The terminal displayed one final message:
Ethan leaned closer. "My turn for what?"
He should have deleted the software. Wiped his drive. Pretended none of it happened.
And slowly, deliberately, he typed: .
Then he looked at his laptop screen.
The terminal displayed one final message:
Ethan leaned closer. "My turn for what?"
He should have deleted the software. Wiped his drive. Pretended none of it happened.
And slowly, deliberately, he typed: .
