A tap came. My department chair. I stepped aside and entered his VR office. When I returned a moment later, Miranda was still speaking. “I never pay much attention to my dreams. But this one stuck with me. I suppose I’m asking…what do you make of it?”

Abby smiled gently. “I think it means God is speaking to you.”

I watched Abby interact with Miranda and marveled. Here was a woman with the inner fortitude to cope with life in an alien culture, to travel across a foreign city, to meet a stranger and follow him into an unreal electronic world, exposing herself to ridicule of her worldview, and yet with the graciousness to respond patiently and kindly to students and to speak tenderly with one who approached her.

I didn’t share any of her beliefs. Attached to any other person, in fact, her worldview alone would have repelled me. In her, it didn’t. Despite everything I knew to be true about existence, I couldn’t help looking past her beliefs and being lured in.

We returned to my office. Abby removed her helmet and stood looking at her surroundings, getting her bearings in physical reality again. “Well, that was interesting. Your students have some strong opinions.”

Inwardly I cringed. Did she regret visiting the class? “Were you okay with the questions? I didn’t want you to feel attacked.” I didn’t mention my concerns about my lecture.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then spoke. “People here are not what I expected. Maybe I didn’t know what to expect. You and the class—everyone here in the States, it seems—have such a different mindset than my own. It would be easy to get hung up on one or two hard questions. But I need to keep my eyes on the bigger picture.”

The bigger picture. “Abby, there’s something I need to show you.”

“Something else in town?”

“No, here in my office. It’s…Maybe you should sit down.”

She looked confused. I could only imagine what she must be thinking. What could this professor possibly have to show of such seriousness? Because, I realized, I suddenly sounded that way.

I opened a desk drawer and pulled out my father’s storage device. “My father died a few weeks ago. Committed suicide, the police said.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I found this at his place.”

Her eyes narrowed, focusing on it. “What is it?”

“It’s an old electronic storage device. No one uses them anymore.”

“What does it do?”

“You can store files on it.”

“Files?”

“Like visual messages. That’s what’s on this one, except the visual portion is corrupt. Only the audio works.”

“You need to play a message your father left you?”

“No, I need to play a message someone left my father.”

“Why would I need to hear that? Isn’t that his private message?”