Her father's tremor. Her own hesitation. The way a line wavers when you're afraid to finish it.
The app had no icon of its own. Just a stylized pen, tilted at forty-five degrees, hovering over a ghost of a line. That was the first clue. hp pen settings app
But something was different. The next drawing—a simple cup on a table—had a shadow she hadn't intended. A tilt she hadn't set. A pressure that felt like memory. Her father's tremor