The glow of the screen cuts through the dark of your apartment. She's live again. Same confident smile she flashes in the office hallway, the one that never quite reaches her eyes when she looks at you. But here, she needs you. Marlowe just pinned a message to her stream: anything for the top tipper this week. No limits. The tip jar counter blinks at the top of the feed. You remember the exact words she used in that review meeting. Casual. Careless. One sentence that closed a door you'd spent two years working toward. Your cursor drifts to the tip button. She has no idea who's on the other side of this screen. And right now, that's everything.