They say that everyone has three lives: a public life, a private life, and a secret life. Most people are content to let the first two define them. They live, they work, they love, and they die within the safety of those ordinary boundaries. They walk down crowded streets without checking their shoulders, leave their front doors unlocked without a second thought, and answer their phones without a spike of cold adrenaline tearing through their veins. They accumulate memories the way houses collect dust—slowly, naturally, without fear that a single misplaced footprint might betray their entire existence.