She can hear his voice, and her pace quickens.

"Henry? Henry, is that—?" she calls, rounding the corner into his room.

He came home. Even if this isn't really their home, it's a deceptively good hologram. How many times has she thought about this moment? How many times has she hoped he would choose her over Emma, and just come home? She lets herself hope for one aching moment until she sees him.

And then it all comes crashing in.

"Henry, what are you doing?" she cries, face moued.