When she woke, the cylinder was warm. The manual was open to a new page.

She laughed. Then, out of boredom, she held the cylinder to her temple.

Still sealed.

She erased the memory of losing her job. Then the memory of the three rejections after. Then the memory of Leo leaving. Each erasure left a tiny, invisible wound—a second of blankness she didn’t notice.

Finally, she flipped to the back of the manual.