The 720p resolution sharpened, then exceeded its bounds. Pixels multiplied. The image became hyperreal—his own desk, his own hands on the keyboard, seen from the corner of the ceiling. The bone collector’s angle.

Rohan slammed the spacebar.

He double-clicked.

He checked the video. It was the rain. The cab. Lincoln Rhyme’s paralyzed body in a penthouse. No faces yet.

Rohan turned around.