Discovering what characters would do in each possible eventuality allows you to get to know them in a way linear fiction can never emulate. And this warts-and-all knowledge of their every imperfection and irrational act is surprisingly affecting. Nikki’s secret weakness for you is even more endearing once you discover one or two of the hat-trick of twists about her character. As you become more intrigued to see the other eventualities, it also gets harder to bring yourself to screw with these people just to see what happens. But screw you do.

When you “complete” a run of your character’s life, you’re told that there is no right ending (although retaining your life, freedom, job and marriage is something), and shown tantalizing wordless stills of other things that can happen in the story. In one, Nikki’s son, usually a minor character you meet briefly if at all, seems to have kidnapped someone. In another you’re quite clearly in an erotic moment with a woman we’ve never even seen in the game. Still another shows you tossing a frisbee to a young boy on a tropical beach. How the hell do these things happen? We’ve uncovered dozens of layers of deceit and intrigue in this small window into these people’s lives, but it’s clear there’s masses more going on. Always just beneath the surface.

More than anything, there’s still that suspicion that Susan’s cheating on us. We don’t even mind - we richly deserve it - but we have to know how, when, why. And it’s all in there, we’re sure of that. It’s just that the last time we tried to stay in our marriage and job long enough to find out, Susan divorced us and her boss Superintendent Williams shot me to death. Touché, Williams. Touché.