Every night at exactly 2:14 AM, my smart speaker played three seconds of static.
For weeks, I ignored it.
Then, on Thursday night, the static stopped halfway through.
A voice whispered the name my mother used to call me as a child. I hadn't heard it in fifteen years.
Then it said, "You're still pretending you can't hear me."
I hadn't told anyone about the static.
But someone or something had been listening.