Not a child’s smile. Too wide. Too still. Their eyes locked on the camera—on her , Maya realized—and held. For ten seconds. Twenty. The audio was just a low hum, like a refrigerator’s sigh.

The screen went black. The site dissolved into a 404 error. Her laptop shut down. Her phone displayed the time: 4:44 a.m.

The page loaded on a site so bare it felt hostile. Black background, white text, one search bar. Above it, the words: No logo. No contact. No about section.

The video on the PKF site had changed. It was no longer the empty living room. It was her. Right now. Sitting at her desk, phone in hand, eyes wide.