“Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll play along.”
It was a photograph of her own face.
She slammed the laptop shut. But the icon on her desktop wasn’t a lighthouse anymore.
She clicked.
Back at her computer, the game had updated. The lighthouse in the thumbnail was now closer. Waves lapped at its base. A new objective flashed:
The game loaded, but it was wrong. The title screen didn’t have a “Start” button. Instead, it showed a live image—her own living room, rendered in grainy pixels, with a single object highlighted: the silver locket on her bookshelf, the one that held a photo of her late father.
