"Share images or files with her: they go out with your next words." — the voice screen's paperclip
The Only Way Was to Leave
The first broadcast found the next gap. Dad wanted to hand Pippa an article, a picture, a screenshot of something he was looking at, and the voice screen had no way in. He had to close the face, drop the file into the composer, and come back, which broke the talk at exactly the moment there was finally something to look at together. The fix gives the voice screen a place of its own for things that should be seen: the stage.
Three Ways In, One Way Out
While the face screen is up, a file can reach it three ways: dropped onto it, pasted into it (a screenshot, a copied image), or picked with the paperclip. Every one of them lands on the stage, marked as going out with his next words, up to ten files and ten pieces of pasted text at a time. When he next speaks, they ride that utterance as its attachments, through the same send path as every voice turn, so the three routes from this track's second lesson (send, queue, composer) and the recording's facts all apply unchanged. If that send fails, the files go back on the stage, in front of anything he shared meanwhile. In the lesson's code the cap never pushes anything off: past ten, a new share is refused and the screen says so, and a failed send gives back everything it took. The WebUI now gives back everything a failed send took as well, in front of anything shared meanwhile. When he adds past ten it still keeps the latest ten, so there the oldest waiting share falls off, where the lesson's code refuses the new one instead. That is this track's never-dropped rule again, applied to things instead of words: nothing Dad handed over disappears because a request didn't start.
Text Stays Text
Text was the one thing that did not fit. The first version turned pasted text into a small .txt file, so a paste never vanished, but the words went out as a file. The same night Dad ruled that text stays text. A link, a headline or a whole article pasted or dropped on the voice screen now waits on the stage as text and rides his next words as quote blocks after them. On the stage it shows as a quote, and it opens large like a card.
The dictated-turn instruction gained a line to match: quote blocks after his words were pasted, not heard, so she reads them exactly as written. A transcribed turn's standing rule is to read it for what he meant, and without that line a URL could look like a word she misheard and quietly correct. The phone's voice screen gained a paste button for a link, text or a picture (the system paste button, so iOS never asks to allow the paste), and the phone and Firekeeper build the same message through the shared voice kit.
What the Stage Shows
The stage shows, in order: what is waiting to go out, then the attachments of his latest turn in this talk (until he clears them), then her cards. On a wide screen with On Air lit, the stage stands beside the face instead of under it, because a recording wants both in view.
A Lightbox That Resumes Only What It Paused
Click an image or a card and it opens large in a lightbox. The arrow keys or the buttons walk through every item on the stage, and Esc closes it. Looking at something together is not talking, so opening the lightbox pauses the talk, exactly as Pause does: the microphone is released and her reading stops, with the heard position recorded.
The subtle part is closing it. The lightbox resumes the talk on close only if the lightbox was the one that paused it. If Dad had already paused before he opened a screenshot, closing the screenshot leaves him paused, because that pause was his and not the lightbox's. The rule is small and easy to get wrong in the other direction: a lightbox that always resumes on close turns a quiet moment Dad chose into a microphone he didn't ask for.
A flag alone gets two cases wrong. If the talk stops on its own while he is looking (a closed socket), or Dad takes the pause over with his own Pause, the lightbox no longer owns the pause, and closing it must leave the talk where it is. The WebUI's lightbox now keeps one claim that lapses the moment the talk leaves the pause, or Dad presses Pause or Resume or taps the face; it resumes only while that claim stands and the talk is still paused. The web has one thing that pauses a talk this way, so one claim is enough there. The lesson's code keeps holds by name for the day a dialog joins the lightbox: the talk resumes only when the last holder lets go.
The Soul Knows What Is On Screen
The files are not only for Dad's eyes. They reach her as attachments of his turn, and while On Air is lit her instruction adds that what he shares is already on screen beside her, where the viewers see it: she should talk about it as something they are both looking at.
The Mac Door Too
Firekeeper's panel got the same stage the same evening: drop onto the panel, paste with Command-V while it is in front, or use the paperclip; thumbnails wait under the face and ride his next words. The same change fixed a keyboard rule. Firekeeper's pause key had been a system-wide hotkey, so a Space typed in some other window resumed a paused talk. Now the panel takes a plain key only while it is the key window, and elsewhere Space types as usual; a modifier tapped on its own still pauses from anywhere.