"Don't trust Zora."
The note is in Steve’s handwriting. It’s tucked beneath a floorboard in a room he never enters. It looks decades old, but Steve only moved in last year.
Every time the "static" hits, Steve loses a piece of his life. Minutes vanish. Objects move. The hum in his ears is getting louder, and the footage from the hidden cameras is impossible: Steve is awake while he's asleep, moving with a purpose he doesn't understand.
Is Zora gaslighting him into a breakdown? Or is a "Second Steve" waking up when the static starts? In this claustrophobic psychological thriller, the mystery isn't behind the locked door—it's in the man holding the key.
The static is coming. The door is already open.
