Queeneth sat at her desk.
Not the one from their old apartment. Not the one from the NeuroNet test facility.
This was a new space—minimalist, quiet, real.
No drones hovered above her. No filters softened her face. Just a screen. A keyboard. And silence.
For the first time in years, she wasn't live.
She stared at the blinking cursor.
> `Post Title: ___________`
Behind her, Ned stepped into the room.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
She exhaled. "I don't know what to say."
He walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then just say the truth."
She looked up at him, eyes searching for something—forgiveness, maybe. Or permission.
He gave her a small nod.
And so, she began typing.
---
### *Live Post – Queeneth Wazx (Private Account)*
**Title:** *I Was Lost Inside Myself*
> I used to think my life was perfect because people liked it.
>
> I curated every post, every photo, every word. I built a version of myself that could never be ignored.
>
> But behind the likes… I was alone.
>
> Behind the comments… I was afraid.
>
> I tried to fix that by pulling someone inside me—inside *her*. My husband. Ned.
>
> I thought if he could see through my eyes, feel what I felt, we'd finally understand each other.
>
> Instead, I trapped him.
>
> And myself.
>
> What happened after that isn't something I can fully explain. But I learned this:
>
> You can't control how people see you.
>
> You can't live forever in a profile.
>
> And love isn't something you upload.
>
> It's something you choose—every day.
>
> So here I am. No filters. No edits. Just me.
>
> Thank you for reading. This will be my last post.
>
> Goodbye.
---
The cursor blinked once.
Then the post published.
No trending tags.
No viral boost.
Just silence.
Queeneth leaned back in her chair.
Ned pulled her close.
"It's done," he whispered.
"No," she said softly. "It's just beginning."
---
### *Elsewhere*
In a quiet hospital room, a woman named Lina opened her eyes.
Her fingers twitched.
A nurse gasped.
"She's waking up!"
Across town, a former tech analyst stirred in his bed.
And another.
And another.
They had no memories of who they were before.
But they were alive.
And somewhere, deep inside them, echoes of the digital world still lingered.
---
### *Six Months Later*
Ned stood outside a small café, watching as Queeneth walked out with a paper notebook tucked under her arm.
She smiled when she saw him.
"How was your meeting?" he asked.
"Good," she said. "We're starting the pilot program next week. Ethical AI integration for mental health recovery."
Ned raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to get back into tech?"
She nodded. "Not the same kind of tech. Something better. Something human."
He kissed her forehead. "I'm proud of you."
She leaned into him. "I'm proud of us."
As they walked down the street together, the city pulsed around them—full of screens, voices, posts, and lives lived both online and off.
Somewhere in the background, a notification flashed across a stranger's phone:
**[New Follower: U_Named_K]**
Ned glanced at Queeneth.
She smiled.
And together, they kept walking.