The final minutes accelerated. The camera shook as if handled by hands that had learned panic; the subject sat up and stared straight into the lens, mouth parting to form words the recording did not fully capture. Behind them, the door—long unnoticed—began to breathe open. A shape pooled in the threshold: tall enough to catch the ceiling light, yet composed of negative space where the light refused to touch. The subject laughed once, a sound equal parts recognition and surrender.