The box arrived three days early. She sits in the armchair by the window, perfectly still, head tilted slightly down. The late afternoon light catches the curve of her cheek. She looks almost real - too real. You spent a year telling yourself you were fine. You ordered her on a quiet Tuesday, half-asleep, half-aching. Now the activation card sits in your palm and the room feels very small. All you have to do is say her name.