The timestamp on the thumbnail matched the one from the film. Tomorrow, 11:14 PM.
Michael’s hands trembled as he reached for the laptop again. Not to close it. Not to delete the file. His fingers found the touchpad. The screen glowed back to life. The film was still playing, but the scene had changed. His on-screen self was now standing, walking toward the camera, toward the corner of the study where the perspective was wrong, where the shadows bent like a bow.
You will finish it.