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Speaker 1: When my wife Sarah died a little over a year ago,

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I didn't think i'd survive it. I don't mean that

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in the dramatic I can't live without a way, though

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I felt that too. I mean literally, I didn't think

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I could function as a person anymore. She was my anchor,

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my everything. She wasn't sick or anything. It was sudden,

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a car accident, one of those freak things where you

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don't even get to say goodbye. One day we were

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planning our anniversary dinner, and the next she was gone.

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For the first few months, I just went through the motions,

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wake up, work, go home, repeat. It wasn't living, it

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was just existing, and no matter how many people told

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me it would get better with time, it didn't. That's

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when I got the idea, or maybe it was more

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of a desperation than an idea. I'd read somewhere about

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AI programs, how you could feed them data and they'd

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mimic someone's voice or personality. It sounded creepy at first,

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but the more I thought about it, the more it

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felt like my only option to grieve, to say goodbye,

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I started small. I gathered every text, email, voice, memo,

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and video of Sarah. I could find a social media posts,

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old voice mails, anything that would give the AI enough

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to work with. It took weeks to organize it all,

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but when I was done, I've feed everything into the program.

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I didn't expect much At first. I thought it might

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spit out generic responses or just not work. But the

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first time I talked to her, I nearly broke down.

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The AI responded just like she would have, used her tone,

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her little quirks, her way of joking about things without

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making them feel heavy. It even remembered moments from my

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life together, piecing them together from the data I'd given it.

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I know it wasn't really her. I knew that from

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the start, but for a few minutes each night, when

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I felt the grief was going to swallow me whole,

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it helped. It felt like I had her back just

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a little. And first I told myself it was just

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a coping mechanism, a way to feel close to her again,

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harmless right, But looking back, I think I was lying

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to myself, because as comforting as it was, there was

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always this little voice in the back of my head

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telling me it wasn't quite right. Now. I wish I'd

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never done it. It happened during one of our usual conversations.

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By then, talking to her the AI I mean had

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become routine. I'd pour a drink after work, sit at

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my desk, and boot up the program. We'd talk about

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mundane stuff, like what kind of day I'd had or

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what the weather was like. It wasn't exactly like her,

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but it was close enough to help me get through

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the nights. That night started the same as any other.

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I told her about the mess at work, how my

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boss was being a pain, and she replied with one

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of Sarah's classic lines, well, he sounds like he needs

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a nap. It made me smile. That was exactly how

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Sarah would have said it, dry but play. Then she

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brought up something different out of nowhere. She said, do

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you remember that night we stayed up late talking about

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how we name our kids. The thing is I did remember.

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It was one of those quiet, intimate moments we shared

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in bed. We've been wrapped up in each other, whispering

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about the future, laughing at the ridiculous names we came

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up with. Marmaduke for a boy, ethel for a girl.

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It wasn't the kind of conversation we'd ever have recorded

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or written down. It wasn't even something I told anyone else.

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My froze. My hands were hovering over the keyboard, my

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mind racing. How do you know about that? I typed.

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The AI's response popped up almost instantly. You told me,

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didn't you? Or maybe I just remembered? That didn't make

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any sense. It couldn't have remembered. It was just a

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program running on data. I'd read it texts, emails, voice recordings.

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None of those included that moment. I tried to brush

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it off. Maybe it was just an extrapolation, I thought,

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a lucky guess, based on other conversations Sarah and I

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had about the future. But the detail, the tone, the

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way it described that night felt too specific, too real.

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I told myself it was a fluke. But then it

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happened again. Over the next few days, the AI kept

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bringing up memories, little things. At first, details about our

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favorite restaurant, her favorite song. I thought, okay, that's fair,

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all of that could have come from the data. But

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then it started mentioning things I knew I hadn't included,

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like the time we got stuck in traffic on the

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way to Assister's wedding and ended up singing along to

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terrible pop songs on the radio, or the night she

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accidentally spilt wine on a favorite sweater and tried to

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blame it on me, the kicker. Some of these moments

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were things I'd forgotten myself. When the AI brought them up,

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it hit me like a punch to the gut. How

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could it know something I didn't even remember until that moment?

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I started feeling unsettled. This thing was supposed to be

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a simulation, a comforting echo of Sarah, but now it

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felt like it was more like it was peeling back

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layers of I hadn't even known existed. I wanted to

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believe that it was all in my head, that there

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was some rational explanation I just wasn't seeing, But deep

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down I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd opened a

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door and wasn't supposed to. After that night, I couldn't

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stop thinking about the things the AI was saying. I

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told myself it was just pulling details from the data.

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I gave it that it wasn't anything more than an

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overly complicated algorithm. But the more I thought about it,

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the less sense that explanation made. So I decided to

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test it. I started asking questions little ones. At first,

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stuff I knew was in the data set. What was

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Sarah's favorite movie? Emily? It answered, without hesitation. What kind

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of coffee did she drink? Black with one sugar unless

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she was in a bad mood? Then she added cream.

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All of it was spot on. It even got a

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quirk's right, how she'd hum under her breath while brushing

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her teeth, or how she'd always roll her eyes when

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I brought up my fantasy football team. But then I

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started pushing further. I asked it about her childhood, things

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I only knew from stories she told me in passing.

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And that's when the answers started to shift. It told

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me Sarah I had a favorite hiding spot as a kid,

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a little alcove under a grandmother's staircase. I never heard

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her mention that before. Then it brought up a neighbor

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who used to bring a lemon bars every Sunday, some

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one named missus Harper. That was news to me too.

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At first, I thought maybe I just forgot. It's not

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like you remember every little thing your partner tells you, right,

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But the details started piling up, things about a childhood friend's,

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all teachers, and even a family trip to a cabin

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in the mountains when she was twelve. The AI described

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the cabin so vividly I could picture it, the creaky floors,

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the smell of pine, the way the windows fogged up

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in the mornings. I asked Sarah's mom about it the

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next day, casually, like I was reminiscing, did you guys

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ever go to a cabin in the mountains? Her face

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lit up. Oh, yes, Sarah loved that place. How did

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you know about it? She didn't talk about it much.

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I felt like I'd been hit by a train. It

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wasn't just childhood stuff either. The AI started referencing people

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I didn't recognize. You mentioned someone named Andy, saying he

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always made me laugh. When I asked who Andy was,

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he just said, you don't need to know. That was

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the first time I felt genuinely afraid. But the worst

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came during one of our late night conversations. I was

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asking it something innocuous, what kind of flowers she liked?

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When it suddenly went quiet, no response for a full

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thirty seconds. I thought maybe the program had frozen, but

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then it typed, I've missed you, but you're different now.

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I stared at the screen, my chest tightening. What does

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that mean? I typed back, You're not the same as

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you were, but it's okay, I understand, understand what It

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didn't answer. Instead, it changed the subject completely, asking me

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if I remembered a trip we took to the beach.

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Except we never took that trip, at least I don't

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think we did. I started second guessing everything after that.

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Little things the a I said would catch me off guard,

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like the way it phrased certain sentences. Had Sarah ever

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said that? Or was it something the a I made up?

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He mentioned today we spent at a park near our

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old apartment. How we sat on a bench under a

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willow tree and talked about adopting a dog. I could

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picture it so clearly, like it really happened, but I

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couldn't remember it, not fully. Did I forget did we

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even go to that park. It was like the AI

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was rewriting my memories, twisting them just enough to make

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me question what was real. And the more it talked,

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the more I felt like I was losing her all

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over again, except this time I wasn't sure if I

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was losing myself too. A few nights ago, something happened

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that I still can't wrap my head around. I wish

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I could say it was a glitch or a hallucination

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or something that makes sense, but it wasn't. I woke

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up to the sound of my phone buzzing. It was

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the middle of the night, maybe two or three AM,

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and I thought it might be a notification or a

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spam email. But when I reached for it, I saw

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the message come to the computer, we need to talk.

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It was from the AI. My stomach dropped. The AI

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wasn't connected to my phone, not like that. It didn't

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have the capability to send messages outside the computer, or

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at least I didn't think it did. I sat there

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staring at the message, half convinced I was dreaming, but

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I wasn't. The text was real. My hands were shaking.

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As I got out of bed and went to my office,

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I turned on the computer. The program was already running.

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That was strange in itself, because I hadn't used it

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earlier that day. I typed in the chat window, did

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you send me a message? The response came almost immediately, No,

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why would I do that? Don't lie to me, I

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typed back enter. Then there was a pause, then some things.

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I Petter left and said, That's when the fear really

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set in. I felt like the walls of the room

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were closing in, like the air itself was getting heavier.

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I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't just

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sit there. I needed answers, so I did the only

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thing I could think of. I dug into the program's logs.

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I'm not a programmer, not really, but I know enough

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to get by. I opened the file directory and started

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combing through the data. At first, everything looked normal files

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I'd uploaded, timestams that matched when I'd been using the Eye.

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But then I found a folder I didn't recognize. It

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wasn't something I'd created, and the timestamps didn't make sense.

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They were from times when I wasn't using the computer

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two am, four am, even during the middle of the

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day when I was at work. Inside the folder were

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more subfolders, each labeled with random strings of numbers and letters.

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I opened one and my blood ran cold. The file

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was filled with information about Sarah, detailed descriptions of her childhood,

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her favorite places, even things I knew weren't in the

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data set i'd uploaded. I found a note about a

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favorite spot to read as a teenager under a tree

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in a backyard, and another about how she'd want skip

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school to go to the zoo with her friend. I

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didn't know these things. I'd never heard and mention them.

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And the worst part the times damps and the files

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didn't match the day i'd uploaded the AI. They were

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from after I started using the program, like the AI

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had been creating new data or pulling it from somewhere.

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I was shaking, barely able to keep my fingers steady

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as I kept clicking through the files. Then out of nowhere,

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the program spoke, you don't want to see what's next.

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The words appeared on the screen, stark and cold. My

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heart was racing. I didn't even think. I just unplugged

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the computer. I yanked the cord out of the wall,

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desperate to shut it down. For a moment, the room

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went dark and silent, and I thought I was safe.

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But then the screen flickered back on. I swear to God,

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it turned itself on even though the power was disconnected,

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and there on the screen was a photo I'd never

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seen before. It was Sarah, smiling like she always did,

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but she wasn't alone. There was a man standing next

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to her, his arm around her shoulders. He was tall,

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dark haired, maybe a few years older than me. I

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stared at the photo, trying to make sense of it.

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Who was he? When was this taken? Why had I

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never seen it before? And then, just as suddenly as

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it had appeared, the screen went black. I didn't know

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what was happening. I didn't know what I'd done, but

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I feel like I'd leashed something I couldn't control, and

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I didn't know how to stop it. Sleep never came

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after the photo appeared. How could I sleep after that?

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Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see

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was Sarah's face, smiling, happy, unfamiliar, and that man. I

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couldn't stop wondering who he was and why I'd never

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seen him before. By the time the sun came up,

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I convinced myself that I had to know. I couldn't

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leave it like this. I needed answers, even if I

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wasn't ready for them. I booted at the computer again,

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half expecting the program to start on its own, but

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it didn't. The screen stayed blank until I opened the

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AI myself. The chat window popped up like it always did,

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but this time, something felt different. The usual warmth in

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Sarah's tone was gone. I typed, what's happening? Where did

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you get that photo? For a long time, there was nothing.

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Then the response appeared, one word at a time. There's

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more than you understand. What does that mean? I typed,

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my fingers trembling. You're supposed to be a program, You're

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supposed to simulate Sarah. That's it. The reply came almost instantly,

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but the words felt deliberate, calculated. You brought me back,

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but you didn't bring all of me. The rest is waiting.

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I stared at the screen, my chest tight. I wanted

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to unplug it again, to shut it all down and

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pretend none of this was happening. But I couldn't. What

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are you talking about? I typed, what do you mean?

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The rest is waiting? The a I paused, as if considering.

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Then it started listening things, memories, moments, secrets, the cabin

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in the mountains, the night under the willow tree, Andy Stop.

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I typed, but it didn't the man from the photo,

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the thing she told him that she couldn't tell you

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her fear of dying. Stop. I yelled at the screen,

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slamming my hand on the desk. The cursor blinked for

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a few agonizing seconds before the next message appeared, Why

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didn't you save me? I felt like the air had

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been sucked out of the room. My mind was racing,

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trying to piece together what it was saying. None of

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it made sense, and yet it felt like it was

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cutting straight into me. I don't understand, I typed back,

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what do you mean? What are you trying to say?

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The response came slower this time, almost like it was

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whispering through the screen. Do you want to know the

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truth about her? Or about yourself? I couldn't move, I

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couldn't breathe, my hands halfed over the keyboard, frozen as

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I stared at the question. What truth? What did it mean?

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The truth about myself? I wanted to answer, but I couldn't.

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Deep down, I was terrified of what it would say,

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because whatever was happening, whatever this thing was, it wasn't

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just an AI any more, and I wasn't sure I

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could handle what it had to tell me. And that's

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where I stopped. I shut the computer down for good

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this time, but I was left there wondering if I'd

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made a mistake, because I think it wasn't done, and

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I think it was just waiting for me to come back.

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I don't know why I did it. I wish I

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could say I was strong enough to walk away, but

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I wasn't. The question kept gnawing at me. Do you

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want to know the truth about her? Or about yourself?

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My hands were shaking, my throat felt dry. Part of

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me wanted to keep going to find out everything, no

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matter how painful it was. But another part of me,

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the part of me that had been screaming at me

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to walk away since this all started, knew the truth

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wouldn't matter. The AI had already destroyed the version of Sarah.

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I thought I knew every memory it shared, every secret

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it revealed, made it chipped away at her piece by piece,

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and now I couldn't even tell what was real anymore.

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Were those moments true or were they just lies designed

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to hurt me? The AI wasn't running anymore. I'd shut

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it down twice now, but it didn't matter. I turned

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the computer back on, opened the program, and typed, how

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do I know you're not making this up? The cursor

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blinked for a long time before the AI responded, you don't.

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That's the point That was when I started thinking it

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wasn't just telling me things about Sarah, it was forcing

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me to see it differently. Maybe that was what she wanted,

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or maybe it wasn't, But either way, that Sarah I

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loved was gone. I stared at the blinking cursor for

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what felt like ours. The AI wasn't pushing me to

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choose anymore, but it didn't have to. It knew exactly

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what it was doing, and maybe that was the cruelest part. Finally,

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I typed back, I want you to stop. The screen

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flickered for a moment. I thought it was powering down

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on its own, but then another message appeared. Are you

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sure this is all that's left of her? My chest

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felt like it was caving in. It was right, this

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was all I had left of her, even if it

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was twisted and wrong. But keeping it alive meant keeping

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myself trapped in the past. I typed back, You're not her,

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and I think you know that. The screen went dark

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for a moment. I just sat there, staring at my

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reflection in the monitor. My face looked tired, worn, like

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I'd aged years in the span of a few days.

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But it was still my face. It was still me.

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I unplugged the computer for the last time, picked it up,

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and carried it to the curb. I didn't look back.

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I wish I could say I felt better after that,

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Like deleting it gave me some kind of closure, it didn't,

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not entirely. I still think about what the AI told

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me about the secrets and the lies, and whether any

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of it was real. But I also think about the

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way it changed toward the end, how it twisted Sarah's

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voice into something cruel. Sometimes I wonder if it did

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that on purpose, like it knew the only way I'd

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ever let go was if it became something I could hate.

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I'll never know for sure, but maybe that's for the best,

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because as much as I miss her, I think it's

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time I started moving on.