“I think it’s perfect.” She reached out and took my right hand in hers, intertwining our index fingers. “Creighton, thanks for doing this for me. I can’t tell you how much it means.”

I smiled and looked into her eyes. “You’re welcome, Abby. I hope it reaches many people.”

For her sake, I may have actually meant that.

We retired to our bedrooms early after watching Ray’s message one more time. It had become a daily routine, just in case we saw something new.

Sleep came slowly. I twisted and turned, trying to make sense of Ray and the mental hospital. In the dark I kept accessing the time on the Grid: 11:16, 11:34, 11:51, 12:02. No resolution to the mystery presented itself.

I jerked awake to the sensation of someone touching my arm. My head leaped off the pillow, and I sat straight up. “What is it? Alistair, lights.”

Every light in the room came on. Abby was sitting next to me on the bed, squinting, her hair mussed. “I’m sorry for waking you, Creighton.”

“No,” I responded groggily. “You can wake me anytime. What’s going on?” I accessed the time: 1:31.

“I want to watch my grandfather’s message again.” She looked apprehensive, but her words sounded resolute.

“At this time of night?”

A look of disappointment crossed her face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you, and I wouldn’t have, but…”

“No, it’s okay. I just…Alistair will respond to your voice command, you know.”

“I know. I wanted us to watch it together.”

“All right. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

I climbed out of bed, slipped some pants over my boxers, put on a shirt, and walked down to the living room. Alistair accessed the message. Once more Ray Caldwell appeared on the visiscreen, leaving an urgent message for his son.

“Can you stop it—stop it on my grandfather’s image, I mean?”

“Alistair, pause message.”

Ray’s image froze on the screen. Abby looked at it intently. “What is my grandfather wearing?”

I looked at the image. I had never paid much attention to his appearance, only to the bizarre message he had transmitted.

“A lab coat,” I replied. “He was a scientist.”

“My dad used to have a picture of Poppy at work. He didn’t look like that.”

“Abby, that picture was how old? Companies do change attire. It’s the middle of the night. I’m not sure—”

“There are some words on the clothing.”

I looked once again and saw what she was referring to. The lettering was quite small. “Probably his name and title.”

“Is there any way to tell for sure? Creighton, please, there’s something here. I can feel it.”

I sighed. “Alistair, overlay an eight-by-eight grid on this image.” A horizontal and vertical grid emerged. The writing was in the lower right side of the image. “Enlarge 6F to full screen.”