Elias scrubbed the timeline. At the 0:12 mark, the woman leaned forward and whispered something. There was no audio, but her lips moved clearly. He slowed the playback to 10%. “Help me delete the metadata,” she seemed to say.
Suddenly, the file size began to grow. 45MB... 120MB... 2GB. Elias tried to close the player, but his mouse wouldn't move. On the screen, the woman in the beige coat reached out her hand, her fingers pressing against the glass of his monitor from the inside. 1080P_4000K_384083412_396x702(1).mp4
Confused, Elias checked the file properties. The "Date Modified" was set to a day next week. The "Location" tag didn't point to a city, but to a set of GPS coordinates that placed the camera in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Elias scrubbed the timeline
As the progress bar hit 100%, the elevator doors behind her opened. Elias didn't look at the screen anymore—he looked at his office door, which was slowly beginning to slide open in exactly the same way. He slowed the playback to 10%