A reply came instantly: "MAMÁ! You're back! I was so worried. I'll call you tomorrow, I promise."

Clara smiled, placed the phone on her nightstand, and plugged it into the charger. The battery was at 12%. Outside, the city hummed. Inside, the silence was no longer empty. The little Moto G, running its ancient Android 4.4.4, had found a way to keep talking.

She entered the code. The screen blurred, swirled, and then—


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