The screen fizzed. Went black. The old man screamed—not in pain, but in loss . His reflection vanished. His polo shirt turned back to normal. He was just a tired, hungry old man again.

Elías stood up. “No,” he said. “I’ll just go pay my rent. In person. With cash.”

His rent was due. His mother’s prescription was waiting at the pharmacy. And the five thousand pesos he’d saved from delivering packages on his bicycle— that money was everything .

“How do you know my name?”

The phone buzzed.