You get to know Unpacking’s unseen protagonist in the most unlikely of ways: By helping her find a place for her belongings.

On the first level, you set up her childhood bedroom, placing her boom box on her desk and figuring out the coziest spot for her stuffed animals. Years later, when she moves into her boyfriend’s apartment, the objects change. Now it’s DVDs, a yoga mat, and kitchen supplies. Each move chronicles a new stage of her life.

In Unpacking, seeing where everything fits takes emotional intelligence as much as strong spatial skills. After a bit of trial and error, for example, you’ll realize that photo of an ex-boyfriend belongs tucked in a cabinet instead of displayed on a dresser.

Sifting through the protagonist’s belongings over the decades, you see her evolve, shed old identities, and embrace her true self. You begin to understand her struggles and successes, as though you’ve known her for years.

Great games have an uncanny way of making you appreciate your real-world relationships—and Unpacking did that for us. It made us realize an act of generosity—helping someone get their stuff in order—can foster the deepest bonds.

If you deliberately put every item in the wrong place on the first level, you’ll unlock a secret Dark Star mode, with distorted music and scrapbook entries suggesting a different type of protagonist. From there, the challenge for the rest of the game becomes putting everything where it doesn’t belong.

In the opening level, set in 1997, you’ll unpack a toy pig that reappears during each move, eventually finding its way to a nursery with a bow around its neck.

The idea for Unpacking came when Australian game developers Wren Brier and Tim Dawson moved in together. The prototype they developed in their free time would go on to become the second title for indie game studio Witch Beam.