“And we all got a raise,” Tom interjected, raising his own beaker full of bubbly liquid.
Brenda filled another for her from a bottle of champagne, pressing it insistently into her hand. Ophelia threw it back like a shot, her mind still reeling.
I did it? Me?
All those years she’d spent studying had amounted to something after all. And sure, it wasn’t the cure for cancer she’d hoped to make when she worked for the pharma company, butit had saved a dozen jobs and would bring joy to many people. Glowing flowers. It was such a silly accomplishment, one her parents would doubtless roll their eyes at, but… she was proud. She laughed, cradling the beaker against her chest, admiring the faint glow of her wilted lilies.
“You’re all dressed up,” Brenda said, nudging her shoulder. “Someone tipped you off, didn’t they?”
“No.” Ophelia tore her gaze from the proof of her success. “I was just stopping by on my way somewhere.”
Brenda’s brows furrowed. “Oh? What for?”
She pulled out the envelope that had been tucked under her arm, staring at it for a long moment before handing it off. Brenda took it with a frown.
“I’m resigning.”
Cries of protest rippled through the room. She held up her hands in a placating gesture, smiling regretfully at her disappointed coworkers.
“You can’t! Oh, Ophelia. They want you to take the lead on this project. I don’t understand. Why now?”
“I’m leaving the city.”
“The city? When?”
“Tonight.” She set her beaker down, glancing up at the clock.
It was nearly ten.
“I have to go,” Ophelia said apologetically. After a moment’s hesitation, she darted in to give Brenda a hug. “Thank you for everything. You were the best boss I’ve ever had.”
Brenda patted her back awkwardly, and her expression was stunned when Ophelia pulled away. Her face softened. “You break up with that guy of yours?”
Ophelia’s eyes widened. “How did you…”
“I never did like him.” She crossed her arms over her chest, resting her hip against the workbench. “Something squirrelly about him.”
Ophelia barked a stunned laugh. Brenda had only seen him twice—at holiday parties. In that brief time, she’d managed to pick up what Ophelia hadn’t noticed over the endless hours they spent together.
“Good!” Brenda declared, clapping her on the shoulder hard enough to make her sway on her feet. “Good for you. You do what you have to do, Eff.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Brenda offered a sad smile.
“Good luck out there, kiddo.”
CHAPTER 39
Sam was bitterly fightingthe instinct to pace as he stood with the other floor models, waiting in a line for their signal to join the speaker on stage. They’d all been dressed in starched, white uniforms emblazoned with their designations. The others looked as placidly content as usual, while he was struggling against the impatience that had been building beneath his skin for days.
He needed to see her.
If everything had gone according to plan, she would be out there, even now. Somewhere in the crowd was his reason for existence, and he wanted to see her for himself and know she was fine. A few texts relayed through Logan weren’t good enough.
There was still too much that could go wrong. And here, in the heart of Automata, surrounded by their security, he was less confident that he could solve them with mere violence.
A light flashed, signaling that it was time for their grand reveal. The android at the front of the line moved, and the rest followed in perfect sync, trotting out for their inspection. A curtain swept up a moment later, and they were met with thunderous applause as a spotlight briefly blinded them.
