“There’s the library,” she says, pointing at a set of sliding white doors.
“Oooh … a library,” Brynn says, smiling at me.
I motion for her to go ahead, and then I grab Mr. Goodwin’s arm and lead him to a chair beside the fireplace.
I try not to get distracted by the room as I walk in, the massive bookcases reaching the ceiling, the intricately carved wood of the chairs, the ornate décor. Okay, it’s lovely.
“Now sit,” I tell Mr. Goodwin, motioning to the chair. He does as I ask. When I move to the couch, sticking close by him, I see him studying me. Fascinated and terrified.
For a split second, I wonder if that’s how Jackson feels when he looks at me sometimes.
“Back to this debt,” Sydney says to Mr. Goodwin, pulling me from my thoughts. “What do you owe Anton?”
“Who’s Anton?” Adrian asks.
A question occurs to me. I look at Adrian. “Why didn’t you tell me you lived here?” I ask. “You said you lived in a small neighborhood near Corris Hawkes.”
She winces. “I do. I mean, I live there with my mom. My … stepmom. Claire,” she clarifies. “I’ve lived with her since they divorced three years ago. In fact, I don’t usually see my dad. Only when …” She looks sideways at him. “Only when my mom gets sick.”
“Your mother’s sick?” I ask.
She nods. “It happens sometimes. She’ll be amazing and great. And then, she’ll be tired all the time. Headaches. Barely able to get out of bed. Dad brings her to a hospital for a few weeks, and then she comes back recharged. But now she’s sick again, so I’m here. She’s resting upstairs until he takes her tomorrow.”
I look at Mr. Goodwin, trying to figure it out. “What’s the debt?” I ask, leaning toward him.
“A … procedure,” he says. “A rare medical procedure.”
Adrian looks around at us, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“Stop lying for her benefit,” I tell Mr. Goodwin, motioning to his daughter. “Why are you really paying the analysts at Innovations Academy ungodly amounts of money? Money that you don’t have anymore?”
“Dad?” Adrian asks. “What are they talking about?”
And as I watch, this man seems to struggle with himself, blinking quickly as he decides whether to be honest. Then his face clears and he sighs deeply.
“It was a sound investment,” Mr. Goodwin says quietly. “The initial projections were nearly five times at payout. I was the first investor. I toured the corporation facility, and they introducedme to Claire—the prototype.” He meets my eyes. “I wanted her. I paid top dollar.”
Adrian looks around, even laughs like she’s missing some larger joke. “What are you talking about?” she asks.
“You could afford it,” Marcella points out to Mr. Goodwin. “I’ve seen your past financial disclosures. But then you began sinking more money into the academy. So much that you had to start borrowing. Why? Why push beyond your means?”
“Because she kept dying,” Mr. Goodwin says simply. “Claire was defective, and she kept dying. And then I would get her rebuilt, exactly the same. No modifications.”
“Why not get a new girl?” I ask.
“I would never!” He has the gall to sound offended. “I love her. My daughter loves her. And most importantly, Claire loves us. I couldn’t just … justget another girl.She’s ours.” He closes his eyes, calming himself.
“And that debt?” he continues. “Anton told me he wouldn’t rebuild her until I’ve paid off my balance. So I borrowed money. Then Claire broke down again. Faster this time. But Anton said he wouldn’t rebuild her unless … unless I found you.”
“Dad?” Adrian’s voice trembles. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Claire is …” He furrows his brow. “Honey, Claire was created in a lab. She was here to take care of us, and then, to take care of you. She’s … She’s AI.” He shifts his eyes to us. “Just like they are.”
Adrian scoffs. “Is this some kind of practical joke?” she asks, although the hysteria in her voice tells me she knows it’s true onsome level. A moment or two where Claire asked a strange question or blinked out of sync? Adrian’s seen something.
“Did you tell him?” Brynn asks Mr. Goodwin. When he looks at her, he softens slightly.
“Tell who, dear?”
