Not the usual glare shift or auto-brightness adjustment. This was a deep, rolling shudder, like a sheet being snapped over a mattress. The image of his desktop dissolved, replaced by a photograph. It was his desk. Exactly his desk—the chipped coffee mug, the tangled charging cable, the sticky note that read “Buy milk.” But the photo was taken from a different angle. Higher. As if someone had been standing behind his chair.
Alex’s heart kicked against his ribs. He looked behind him. Empty room. Locked door. laptop screen shot button