"What's going on?"
Calvin Mercer stopped typing. The blue-white glow of the screen lay across his glasses, so that for a moment his eyes could not be seen at all. He did not look up right away. When he spoke, he spoke to the monitor, low, almost to himself.
"This file is from eighteen years ago."
Natalie stood. The bench scraped on the floor.
"Turn that off."
Adam stared at her. His smile was gone, and without it his face looked unfamiliar, older, the stubble suddenly darker along his jaw.
"Natalie?"