With the lethal purpose of a jungle predator on the hunt, Key burst through the door of her apartment, cleared off a spot on her kitchen counter for her purse and Glock, checked her phone for updates, then raced to the bathroom to vomit up the misguided burrito she’d eaten in the car. Then she raced to her sofa, cleared off a spot large enough that she could mostly lie down, then immediately went to sleep for over an hour. Then she burst awake, raged at herself for falling asleep, and checked her phone for updates.

— Key in Jason Pargin, I’m Starting to Worry About This Black Box of Doom, 2024, St. Martin’s Press, Ch. Day 1, p. 71