And somewhere in the servers of a dozen tracking companies, a tiny, anonymous quack echoed into the void.

Lena grinned. “Then follow me.”

“That’s it?” he asked.

Mr. Hemsworth hovered the mouse like he was defusing a bomb. Click. A soft chime. Then, a little duck icon appeared next to his address bar.

For a week, he browsed in peace. He researched finch diets, built a feeder from a pine cone and peanut butter, and even bought a small bag of nyjer seeds online without being haunted by seed ads for the rest of his life.

He was skeptical. So he typed: best bird feeders for finches . The results were clean, relevant, and—miraculously—accompanied by a little flame icon next to each link, indicating the site was recent and trustworthy.

No autofill judgment. No “people also searched for: smoking cessation aids.” Just a straight answer: Popeye Cigarettes .