You know, there are nights when the silence claws at your sanity, gently as a cat pawing at a misplaced yarn. It's during these moments of desperate solitude that you begin to hear the whispers—like shards of stories suspended mid-voice, waiting for someone, anyone, to complete them.

Ever gotten the sense that things aren’t always as they seem? Like when a seemingly harmless email from "account_verification@nonexistentbank.com" unexpectedly leads you down a rabbit hole of spam and existential dread? Happens to the best of us.

Take a chance on the third voice why don't you? Or perhaps revisit the first echo and see how the mysterious pieces fit, or don’t fit, as the case may be.