"Ten hours, Eric," she said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous silk. "I’ve given you every ounce of focus I have. I’ve followed every lead, fixed every error, and played your game."

Then, a young, arrogant action director moves in next door. He’s shooting a big-budget superhero film. Vera watches his stunt team from her window and sees nothing but sloppy technique, bad falls, unsafe rigging. She starts leaving anonymous notes under his door. “Your second-unit fight coordinator doesn’t know how to roll a fall on concrete. Page 47, the car flip—the center of gravity is wrong. You’re going to break someone’s neck.”

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“Of course they do,” Lena said. “Tell them Vera’s just getting started.”