The first time she glitched, it lasted less than a second.
Ethan almost didn't notice. They were sitting across from each other at a quiet café, her hair catching the sunlight through the window. She was laughing at something he said—he didn't even remember the joke, only the warmth in her smile. Then her face flickered.
Not like a twitch, not like a trick of the eye. It was a digital stutter, as if the air itself had lagged. For a heartbeat she was faceless, a smear of static across reality. Then she was normal again, sipping her coffee, tapping her spoon against the cup.
"What's wrong?" she asked when she caught him staring.
Ethan blinked hard, forcing a laugh. "Nothing. Thought I saw… something weird."
She tilted her head, her expression amused and faintly suspicious. "Weird like what?"
"Like you just bugged out."
She rolled her eyes. "You've been spending too much time coding."
He wanted to argue, but her laugh pulled him back. Maybe he was tired. Maybe it was just his imagination. The glitch was so quick, it could have been anything.
And yet… later that night, when he opened his gallery, the last photo of her wouldn't load. A blank thumbnail. Just a gray square with a single error message underneath:
404: Her Not Found.