Paparazzi were back. Looked like double-decker dragonflies, wings or rotors transparent with speed, little clear bulb on the front end. She’d tried counting them, but they were fast, moved constantly. Maybe six, maybe ten. They were interested in the building. Like AI emulating bugs, but she knew how to do that herself. They didn’t seem to be trying to do anything, other than dart and hover, heads toward the building. She edged a couple, saw them dart away, gone. They’d be back. It felt like they were waiting for something, evidently on the fifty-sixth floor.