Zara's room was exactly what I expected. No, scratch that—it was even more chaotic than I imagined. Screens covered every inch of her walls, some displaying scrolling code, others running sports streams, and a few showing what looked like simulations of random games. A separate monitor outright displayed sports betting stats, with colorful charts flashing predictions at breakneck speed. At the center of it all sat Zara, legs propped on her desk, her fingers dancing over a keyboard that looked like it had been customized into an alien artifact.
"Wow," I muttered, stepping into the room. "Is this a tech haven or a shrine to ADHD?"
Zara didn't even glance at me. "Both," she said, her voice deadpan. Her attention flicked between the screens, her eyes darting like a hawk hunting prey. "Don't touch anything unless you want to crash half the economy."
Jessica trailed behind me, rolling her eyes. "She's exaggerating. Probably."