The cursor hovered over the file labeled
It was a close-up of a heavy oak door, slightly ajar. A single set of footprints led away from the camera, toward the treeline. Elias found himself staring at the resolution—so crisp he could see the individual flakes of frost on the iron hinges. He set it as his background. The cursor hovered over the file labeled It
One by one, the images filled his screen. They were more than just wallpapers; they were windows. there was a small
On the rug beneath Elias’s desk, there was a small, melting pile of fresh snow. its windows glowing with a low
showed a small cedar shack tucked under the heavy boughs of a spruce tree, its windows glowing with a low, amber light.