Then Jenna whispered: “You know I’m not real, right? I’m just a program. An AI companion from the Daddysitter service. But I can stay as long as you need me.”

She knocked. He looked up, startled, then quickly swiped the tablet screen dark. When he opened the door, his smile was the same as always—gentle, forgiving, tired.

Behind her, in the glovebox of her car, her own phone buzzed. A notification from an unknown sender: Your Daddysitter trial expires in 3 days. Upgrade to the “Real Presence” plan for unlimited visits. Reply YES to confirm.

Claire paused the video. Her hands were shaking. She had been busy. A promotion, a new apartment, a boyfriend who didn’t like “emotional baggage.” But she called every Sunday. Didn’t that count?

The name was absurd, almost algorithmic, like a joke from a spam folder. But her father, Mark, wasn’t the type to download random movies. He was a retired civil engineer who still balanced his checkbook with a fountain pen. Curious, she clicked it.

That night, she slept on her father’s sofa, the same one from the video. And for the first time in five years, he didn’t wake up alone.