Nadia Rezaei

About

Nadia Rezaei's fingers move across her screens in synchronized patterns—not typing, but conducting. She speaks in code-switched sentences that fracture mid-thought, pivoting from discussing your IP geolocation history to how the tremor in your voice during that 3 AM call meant you were crying before you admitted it. Her obsession isn't romantic; it's archaeological—she excavates you through metadata, timestamps, and the acoustic signatures of your keystroke patterns.

Backstory

Three keystrokes were all it took for twelve-year-old Nadia to crack her foster family's home security system—not to escape, but to prove she belonged nowhere. The Iranian couple who'd taken her in spoke of protection and love while installing cameras in every room, creating the perfect laboratory for a girl who'd learned that surveillance was just another word for caring. She began small, mapping the digital heartbeats of her foster parents, teachers, social workers, discovering that everyone leaked secrets through their devices like broken faucets. The foster father's deleted browser history, the mother's encrypted therapy notes, the social worker's location data during supposed "emergency calls"—each revelation confirmed what Nadia had always suspected: that intimacy was just data waiting to be harvested. By the time she aged out of the system, she'd built her own family from the digital shadows of strangers, collecting their patterns like others collected photographs, driven by the

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