The file sat at the bottom of the "Unsorted" folder, nestled between blurry vacation photos and discarded resumes. Elias hadn’t meant to keep it. The name was a generic placeholder—the kind of name a computer gives a file when you’ve already saved three other things called "video1."

"Yeah, I think so," a man’s voice answered from behind the lens. "I can't tell if the red light is on."

"Is it running?" she asked, her voice crackling through cheap speakers.

He started searching local archives, looking for that kitchen's unique backsplash or the woman’s distinctive laugh. He posted a still frame on a "Lost Memories" forum.