Sheryl, imperfectly.

They just wanted her back, so they signed the papers and handwaved the warnings. It seemed like a perfect fit for an emulated - twenty-five years old with a fresh law degree, smart, funny, and well-liked. And the best part? Sheryl died in a freezing lake, preserving her brain almost perfectly.

Of course, her family knew how she had ended up driving off of the road at midnight. There was a rigorous autopsy and the tox screen showed a handful of deliriants, euphoriants, and psychedelics. The clinic warned them repeatedly that they could affect the behavior of the Emulated but the family buried any ethical questions under a pile of donations and grants. They just wanted her back.

So when the grinning, maniacal thing with Sheryl's face showed up at my front door, I knew who to call.

"Steeeeeeeeve!" it cried, and practically fell into my arms. I was so shocked I barely caught her, quickly propping her back on her feet.

"Sheryl?" My voice was almost a whisper. This was the love of my life, my fiancee, the woman that I watched them lower into the ground four months earlier. Yet she was here on my front porch - our front porch, the porch we were gonna watch our kids play on, the porch we'd sit on together and watch the years go by. She giggled and blew air out of her face.

"You're a sort for sigh eyes," she said. God, her voice! I never thought I'd hear it again! I burst into tears and slumped to the ground. She came with me, rolling out of my arms onto her back. She squinted at me and burped. "What's wrong?"

I could hardly respond through the sobs. "You- you're dead!"

"I don't feel dead," she said with confusion. "I feel... weird. I don't like how sad you are." She belched and grinned. "Don't be sad! I'm here!"

Having processed what was happening, I stood up. "Sheryl," I asked, desperately trying to keep my voice steady, "are you an Emulated?"

She started laughing again and fished around in the backpack she brought. "Yeah! I knew I forgot something. I'm not real. Here's my little controller thing."

I took the tablet from her and inspected it. "Who made you?" I asked, fairly certain I already knew the answer.

"My mom and dad. They pulled me out of the lake and scanned my brain and now here I am! I don't even remember the lake or any of that. I just woke up at home and I felt all fucked up but they said I was dead and they wanted me back but then they said they didn't like me or something and sent me here."

Jesus, they just got rid of her like an unwanted pet. "They sent you here? Did they say anything?"

"It's cold," she said suddenly and stood up woozily. "Let's go in. I want some hot chocolate."

"Can you even eat real food?" I asked, grabbing her arm to steady her.

"How the fuck would I know?" she asked.