“You’re allowed to forgive yourself,” she whispered. “She would have wanted that.”
But Ellie Nova wasn’t a menu option.
“It was in the file. The phone company recovered it. You never requested the data.” She glanced back over her shoulder, her rain-colored eyes soft. “She wasn’t angry, Leo. She was scared. And the last thing she said was your name.”
She was a custom request. A memory given form.
At the door, she paused.