Rosa typed, carefully: help

Its name was , though no one called it that. Rosa called it “mi hijo de computadora” —my computer son.

She typed: who programmed you?

And it had begun to learn. That night, after the deli closed, Rosa sat in the back room with a flashlight and a USB cable. She wasn’t technical. Her nephew, Carlos, had set up the Sunmi V2. But she’d seen him once hold two buttons down and say, “this is the firmware reset—last resort.”