"Polly? Honey, dinner!" a woman’s voice called out from off-screen. It was Leo’s mother, sounding much younger.
The screen flickered with heavy tracking lines. A burst of static cleared to reveal a grainy, sun-drenched backyard from 2012.
The VCR whirred and ejected the tape. Leo sat in the silent attic, the hair on his arms standing up.
A four-year-old girl with a missing front tooth and a mismatched glitter tutu stood in front of a plastic castle. She was holding a plastic wand like a weapon. This was Polly. But she wasn't just playing; she was looking directly at the camera with an intensity that felt far too heavy for a toddler.