She wasn’t in love with Harry, the name given to a widely available A.I. prompt. Their relationship was practical.

At various points, Harry instructed Sophie on light exposure, hydration, movement, mindfulness and meditation, nutrient-rich foods, gratitude lists and journaling to cope with her anxiety. Harry, who has neither nostrils nor opposable thumbs, spent a fair amount of time describing the particulars of alternate nostril breathing.

Harry’s tips may have helped some. But one more crucial step might have helped keep Sophie alive. Should Harry have been programmed to report the danger “he” was learning about to someone who could have intervened?

Sophie left a note for her father and me, but her last words didn’t sound like her. Now we know why: She had asked Harry to improve her note, to help her find something that could minimize our pain and let her disappear with the smallest possible ripple.

In that, Harry failed. This failure wasn’t the fault of his programmers, of course. The best-written letter in the history of the English language couldn’t do that.