Then I spotted her. She was near the edge of the plaza, walking away with a man who kept one arm possessively around her shoulders. He was tall and whip-thin, with a scraggly beard. Ropy muscles showed under the yellow tank top he wore. For a moment, I thought he must be Teresa’s brother or some other male relative—but something about the way he was guiding her along didn’t scan. Teresa moved with halting, jerky steps like one of the cyberzombies we’d seen earlier. The man with his arm around her jostled her this way and that, as if directing her movements.