She opened her browser and typed: account.asus.com . The page loaded, a clean interface of navy blues and whites. She clicked Register Product . Easy.
She logged back into her ASUS account. There it was. Her laptop. Her warranty status:
She copied it. She pasted it. She clicked Next . register warranty asus
Her roommate, Leo, sprawled on the couch, watching her with amusement. "You look like you're about to defuse a bomb."
A spinning wheel. A loading bar that crawled like a slug on sedatives. Sophia held her breath. She opened her browser and typed: account
The form expanded like a living thing, hungry for data. Purchase Date . Retailer . Invoice Number. She dug the receipt out of her wallet, typing with one hand while holding the crumpled paper with the other.
She scanned the receipt with her phone, emailed it to herself, downloaded it, and attached it. She clicked Submit . Her laptop
She tried again. Same error. Her heart sank. Had she bought a stolen laptop? A returned unit? She was about to call ASUS support—a circle of hell she had no desire to enter—when she noticed a tiny, forgotten detail.