He deleted forty-one items from the history at 1 a.m., one at a time, because the family tablet went to his daughter for homework at four. It took nine minutes. He felt the specific tidiness of a man who has handled something. Then he wiped the screen with his shirt and set it on the charger, squared to the edge of the counter.

The sidebar had it all back by 7:15, politely, under a heading that said Because You Watched. Two rows down sat the thing he had cleared first. He watched it in the driveway before work with the engine running and the heater on. After that he stopped clearing anything. It was easier to keep a second account than to keep being recognized.