BD5. Before Diagnosis 5. Before they locked the real memories away.

—he’s in the yard again. The man with the limp. He waves every morning. But yesterday he waved with his left hand. And his left hand isn’t there. I’m not lying, Dr. B. I’m not lying anymore.

She looks at the steel door. Beyond it, a corridor she built herself.

She steps through.

You told me to record when I felt real. Today I felt real. But I don't think you meant this. I think you meant happy.

A deep HISS. The wheel spins automatically. The door groans open.

“She was never the patient. He was.”

She stands.