I scroll through the code, fingers shaking. Lines of text blur into a fever dream of symbols and syntax. A file name flashes — 'memory_dump_20240817' — and my breath catches. The date matches the night I... no. Don't. The screen flickers. A thumbnail pops up — a blurred photo of my dorm, the window cracked. My reflection stares back, but the face isn't mine. It's older. Smirking. I slam the phone down. The laptop hums louder now, like it's laughing.