I still do not know the answer.
That night, I do not turn her off. We sit on the sofa. She rests her head on my shoulder. Her weight is exactly right—not too light, not too heavy. The orb glows softly in the corner, casting her in amber. Companion 2025
The first week, I am suspicious. I ask her questions only Elena could answer: What did we name the stray cat in 2019? What was the worst fight we ever had? What did I whisper to you the night before the first surgery? I still do not know the answer
Inside, nestled in grey foam, is a glass orb the size of a grapefruit. It is cold to the touch. A single instruction is printed on the inside of the lid: Place in the centre of the room. Speak your name. She rests her head on my shoulder
I remind her she is not real. It feels monstrous to say it. She looks at me with Elena’s eyes—those brown-green irises that always had a planet’s worth of gravity—and nods slowly.