“Recalculating,” the voice said, softer now. Almost gentle.

Kenji’s hand hovered over the “Add” button on the touchscreen. The girl didn’t move. Her face was pale, her eyes dark and patient.

The navigation screen displayed a single line of text: “Passenger. 2005. Add destination?”

The screen changed.

He pressed “Add.”

His 2005 Toyota Estima’s navigation system still worked, though the maps were hopelessly outdated. New highways had been built, old roads had crumbled in the 2011 earthquake, and entire towns had shifted. But Kenji was nostalgic. He bought the disc, slid it into the slot, and watched the screen flicker to life.

They found her backpack, perfectly preserved, wedged between two roots.

Then the engine died. The headlights flickered out.