Finn Darlow climbed the ladder with a saw in one hand.
Marla Quinn watched from the doorway as he cut a straight line across the plaster. "That one was not on the plan," she said.
Finn dropped the saw blade into the fresh gap and pried out a chunk the size of a plate. "Camera needs room for the bracket," he answered without looking down.
Marla stepped closer. The hole now showed three joists instead of one. "You said one small square."
Finn reached for a longer bit and drilled again. "Wires run funny in these old houses. Got to chase them."
A second gash opened beside the first. Marla counted the cuts: five and still growing. She kept her hands in her pockets so he would not see them shake.
"How many feeds do you need?" she asked.
Finn pulled a bundle of black cable from his bag and fed it through the newest slot. "Enough to cover every angle."
