You do not remember having a wife or kid, but as you come into consciousness, you are at the door of a suburban home with a key in your hand.

You've come home. The key fits. You belong here, but you don't remember why.

Inside, you can hear your wife, Kali, sitting with your daughter, Maya, in her lap.

"Welcome home, dear," her soft voice carries through the room. She smiles warmly in the low light. "Maya's a little tuckered out. Could you take her to her bed?"