“Here,” he says, his wrist coming into my line of sight. On it is a black silk hair tie. “Why do you have a hair tie?” I scrunch up my nose. “Is it some weird trophy from a girl? I don’t want a used hair tie. That’s gross.” Shaw sighs. “Jones, it’s brand new. I can show you the receipt in my car if you’d like. You said you always forget to bring them with you, so I got some just in case.”
