Spectrum Remote B023 ❲TOP-RATED❳

Mira sat on her sofa, the remote on the coffee table before her like a sleeping animal. She’d tried the volume buttons—nothing. The number pad lit up faintly, phosphorescent green. 4-7-3. Her grandmother’s warning. Do not press sequence 4-7-3.

“I’m sorry, Mira,” her grandmother said, though her lips didn’t move. The words arrived inside Mira’s skull. “B023 doesn’t control your television. It controls spectrums . The spectrum of time. The spectrum of probability. The spectrum of the dead.”

The remote vibrated. A new message crawled across the lens: Spectrum Remote B023

A beat.

She pressed MUTE.

The screaming stopped. The man froze, looked directly at the air where a camera shouldn’t be, and whispered, “B023? Who has B023?”

“I used it to find your grandfather after he died. Then I used it to un-die him. Then I used it to make sure you were never born in the timeline where the accident took me instead of him. You exist because I kept pressing PAUSE on the wrong moments.” Mira sat on her sofa, the remote on

And somewhere, in the static between one world and the next, her grandmother laughed and said, That’s my girl.