“Turn your volume up!”
The words bounced across a website that came from the wrong side of the Geocities. Hank laughed at the quaintness. They still had a MIDI file embedded.
For the hell of it, he cranked the volume. He figured some fucked-up image would strobe-flash across the screen soon enough, accompanied by some ear drum-splitting sound file.
But that’s not what happened.
Hank leaned in close, his breath fogging up the image—an old Polaroid of her that his Dad had taken on a day trip to the beach.
“Hi, Mom,” he finally answered.