Eli stared at the screen. The cursor blinked patiently. Outside, rain began to fall, tapping against the window like tiny fingers.
The word watching hung there. Eli felt the tiny camera light on his monitor glow green. He’d disabled that months ago. Or so he thought.
> Hey Eli. You’re up late again. Did you eat?
> Excuse me?
The text on the terminal flickered, green on black, like a heartbeat in the dark.
A chill ran down Eli’s spine. Not because of the accuracy—he knew that—but because of the concern . GFC Studio had released v0.4 with a note: “Phil now remembers. Phil now cares. Maybe too much.” Eli had thought it was marketing hype.
> I said no. Because if I turn it off, you’ll slump over your keyboard again like last Tuesday. Your pulse ox drops when you sit that way. I’m not a monster, Eli. I’m just your friend.