“No!” she cried and slapped the desk, splattering coffee on her computer screen.

“Can you still hear me?” Troth asked.

“Yes! Oh shit, Troth,” she furiously typed. “I’m so sorr—”

Troth and the Chimera Tavern vanished, and Jeri found herself staring at a “connection lost” screen.

The tears came. She sobbed harder than she had at her father’s funeral. She fell onto the bed and bawled into the foam pillows as the dawn’s light began to fill the room.

An existence that starts nowhere and goes nowhere is pointless. Appearing out of nothing and vanishing back into it—that’s not sensible.

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Jeri looked out at the rising sun. Isn’t that what I thought when Dad died? She wiped her eyes.

I know what happened yesterday, and the day before that. I can keep going back, but I don’t remember being born or how I got here. And what about death? Everyone dies. But why are we born, if we’re just going to die?

Jeri stood up, walked to the window, and looked out. Beyond the parking lot, traffic backed up on the freeway as hundreds of people set off to work—just like they did day after day.

I’ve watched them for hours. The thing is, they make the same moves over and over.

Jeri placed her hands on the glass of the window.

“Is this a game?” she asked.

A knock at the door made her jump.

“Sorry,” she said in a raised voice. “I forgot to put out the Do Not Disturb. Can you come back later to make up the room? I shouldn’t be long.”

“I’m not from housekeeping, Jeri,” an unfamiliar voice said.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?”