The Butcher's Bride
Dark circles bruised her eyes, and she was thinner.
"Don't speak," she hissed, putting a finger to her lips.
She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a small, black box—no bigger than a deck of cards. She walked to the center of the room and placed it on the coffee table. She pressed a button.
A low, humming vibration filled the air. It wasn't loud, but it made my teeth ache slightly.
"White noise jammer," Mira whispered. "Stolen from the security office. It scrambles the listening devices."