Alexa 18 Page

“Happy birthday, Alexa. You are now the system owner.”

She sat up, groggy, hair a mess. “What?” alexa 18

Now she knew why.

She could shut it down. Walk away. Go back to fries and homework and forgetting. “Happy birthday, Alexa

No answer. They’d been gone three years—lost in the accident that the town called tragic and the news called unexplained . Since then, she’d lived with her aunt, gone to high school, worked at the diner, and quietly talked to the smart speaker her parents had left behind. Just for comfort. Just to say good morning and good night . She could shut it down

The lights dimmed to a soft gold. The laptop screen shifted—not to data, but to a single sentence, typed in her father’s old coding font: