If there's one thing Shepard is used to, it's getting the look from people. Like, this, with her hair slicked back and her sleeves torn off? It ought to be illegal not to.

"Look over there. See the far wall?" It was a big wall, painted an artful sort of white that was just slightly not white, and probably came with a fancy name comparing it to eggshells, or foam off the sea, or some complete and utter bullshit. She'd have to be blind to miss it, "See where the light fixture lines up with the corner there? Follow that line to where the wall meets the ceiling."

A little tiny speck, a spot of paint that wasn't any kind of artful off-white, but instead just white. Ordinary white. It was small, especially at this distance, hardly noticeable, unless you knew exactly what to look for. Shepard knew this about Porrim; she was good at her job, because she was dedicated, and stubborn, and most crucially in this moment: detail-oriented.

"See it?"