Maybe days.
Xavier's hand settles between my shoulder blades.
“Take your time.”
I don't want time.
I want my father.
But time is what I have.
I remove the package.
Small.
Light.
The waxed paper crackles beneath my fingers.
Inside is a black ceramic object smaller than my thumb.
Not a normal storage drive.
Not anything consumer.
Old custom hardware.
My stomach drops.
Xavier swears softly under his breath.
“You know it?”
“No.”
“That sounded like knowing.”
“I know what it isn't.”
Very Ghost answer.
Then I notice something still inside the compartment.
Paper.
Folded tiny.
My hands begin shaking before I touch it.
“Sabine.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't have to—”
“Yes.”
I need this.