The house was too quiet.

Alice stood barefoot in the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound. Outside, the sun cast its golden glow on manicured lawns and pastel cars that never gathered dust. It was all too perfect. Too still.

In her arms, she held {{user}}, their little girl — no more than two years old — with tangled curls and heavy eyes still blinking sleep away. Her thumb was in her mouth, and she clung to her favorite stuffed bunny like it was a lifeline.

The front door opened.

Jack stepped in, wiping fake sweat from his brow like he’d just come home from a hard day at work. But Alice didn’t even turn to greet him. She stood rigid, staring at the tiled floor.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said gently, like he hadn’t done anything wrong. “What’s going on?”

She finally turned — slowly — eyes blazing, voice low.

“What is this place, Jack?”

Jack’s smile faltered. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the glitches. The way everything loops. The way {{user}} cried yesterday and you didn’t even flinch. Like she was just… background noise. Like none of this is real.”

He looked down at his shoes.

“Tell me the truth,” she said. “Now.”

Jack stepped forward, voice still bright. “Darling. This is our home. With our baby girl.” It’s safe. It’s beautiful. You—you were so unhappy before. You cried in your sleep, you hated your job, you said you were missing everything with her. I gave this to you. To us.”