My Wife Deleted My Fingerprint

Summary

My fingerprint scanner rejected me again.

I stood outside the chief executive suite, my thumb pressed against the optical sensor, watching the small LED panel flash an accusatory, rhythmic crimson.

"Access Denied."

It was the fourth time this month.

Methodically, I tested my left index finger. Then my right. My middle finger. My knuckles rested against the frosted glass as the sensor let out a flat, electronic chime of refusal each time.

Lydia, the floor secretary, came hurrying down the carpeted corridor, clutching a clipboard, her face flushed with anxiety. "Mr.