Amara closed her eyes. She wasn't in her cramped studio apartment anymore. She was fifteen. She was lying on a mattress on the floor, the Brazilian heat pressing down like a blanket, the blue light of her MP3 player the only star in the room.

A single thread existed for Kantatu. The last post was from 2018. It read: "Alguém ainda tem? Perdi tudo no meu PC velho."

She looked at the download folder. The phrase "gratis em portugues" had never felt more profound. It wasn't just free of cost. It was freedom from the tyranny of the present. It was a rescue mission across time.