I've always believed that energy doesn't disappear when we die. It doesn't go somewhere else. It stays, omnipresent, woven into the fabric of the places and people it loved. There is no past or future in any meaningful sense. There is only presence, layered and accumulated, invisible to most of us most of the time.
"She was born on my day, in my century before me, and came to rest in my neighborhood. That's not coincidence. That's a conversation across time."
Finding Lenna wasn't a research project. It was a recognition. The kind where you see something and your whole body goes oh, there you are. Like running into someone you've known forever in a place you've never been.
I don't know everything about who she was. I know her name. I know her dates. I know where she ended up. And I know that the overlap between her life and mine is too precise to be random noise in the universe. Lenna Grace Angelos is not a ghost story. She's a proof of concept.