When Zoe finished, he was quiet for a long time.
“Zoe,” he said. “Did she look like she was talking to somebody? On the phone? Like a video call?”
Zoe thought about it.
“She was talking to the phone,” Zoe said. “But not like a call. Like a YouTube video. Like the people my friend Ava watches. Where they talk right at the camera. Like Hey guys.”
Terrence’s jaw tightened.
“Like a livestream,” he said.
“What’s a livestream?”
“It’s a video that goes out on the internet,” Terrence said. “While you’re making it. In real time. People watch it while it’s happening.”
He stood up.
His face was dark.
“Okay,” he said. “Come with me. Both of you. Please.”
He didn’t go to aisle seven.
He went to a door behind the customer service desk. A small room. Dark. Full of monitors.
Sixteen screens. Security cameras. Every aisle. Every register. The parking lot. The loading dock.
