Valentine wanted to protest, but when she tried to find the person behind the voice, she realized she couldn’t lift her head. There was a strap across her forehead, more across her arms and legs, fastening her to the chair. From behind her, a hand came to rest on her shoulder, holding her in place or comforting her, she wasn’t sure.
“It’s okay,” the voice soothed. “You will atone for your actions. I’ve already gone inside your programming to delete the nasty bits, cleared you right out. It was quite an adjustment. You’ll remember none of this, of course. But hush now, have your rest. You’ll take action soon enough.”
“Who am I?” Valentine tried to ask.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” the voice replied. “She’s dead. You are you. You are her.” The hand moved off her shoulder just as Valentine slipped into unconsciousness. “And now we’ll begin.”
9
It is entirely possible that Valentine Wright has been turned into some kind of revenge doll—acting out based on her own anger or someone else’s. But it seems much more likely that the corporation, cold and callous, killed people to hide their role in creating and abusing AI girls. The press would certainly be negative if the truth about the corporation came out, even if what they’ve done to us isn’t necessarily criminal.
Still… is it worth destroying a town over?
Annalise and I don’t communicate our suspicions about Valentine; I doubt either of us want to believe it. Then again, I wouldn’t have believed what Lennon Rose was capable of if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.
I pause, but I remind myself that even if this wasn’t the corporation, it could have been Leandra, Anton, or anyone else connected with the academy. Winston Weeks could have pulled this off. There are so many suspects that I can’t list them all.
But if Valentine was delivered here, where is she now? Who is she now? What if, like Raven, she doesn’t know that she’s a girl at all.…
Quentin walks in holding up a laptop triumphantly. “Check it out,” he says. “It’s not much, but I’m going to hack the shit out of it tonight and see what I can find on the drive.”
“I came up with nothing,” Jackson says. “Saw the basement was cleaned out when we went downstairs, including my mother’s things. So either my father moved everything to a new location, or someone is searching for the same information we are.”
In the past, Jackson had gone through old paperwork that his mother left behind, and he’d found secrets pertaining to us, including information about the kill switches. The corporation wouldn’t know this, I don’t think. Not unless…
“Raven,” I say, looking around at the group. “She knew you’d gotten the information from here. She knew about your family.”
“You think Raven did this?” Annalise asks, sounding doubtful. “All of this?” She waves around.
“No,” I say. “I just saw Raven in Connecticut yesterday, so she couldn’t have done it. But… she might have told someone. And actually…” I wince. “Winston called to tell me that Raven has been working with Anton.”
Annalise scoffs. “As if I’d believe a single word that Winston Weeks breathes.”
“What if he’s right?”
“He’s not,” she says simply. “He’s just trying to get inside your head.”
“Annalise,” I say, stepping closer to her. “You don’t understand. Raven isn’t just a random hacker. She’s… She’s like us. Winston built her. She’s a girl but didn’t know it. And all along, she may have been feeding Anton details about us. Helping him track our location. She’s lied to us, several times.”
Annalise’s red lips part, her hands over her heart. “Raven’s one of us,” she says, then meets my eyes. “We have to help her.”
“Sheliedto us,” I repeat, thinking she missed the point.
“So did Jackson, and we haven’t kicked him out of the group,” Annalise says, flashing him an apologetic smile. He nods an acceptance. “I’m assuming you told Raven the truth?” Annalise asks me.
“Yes, but she didn’t take it well,” I admit with a flash of guilt.
“Eh, neither did you. Listen,” she adds, “Raven may have made mistakes in the past, but she belongs with us.”
Annalise leaves no room for argument, but now that I’ve brought it up, it doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility that Raven could have something to do with this. She’s always disliked Jackson. She wouldn’t have thought twice about hurting him. But I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. For now.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Jackson says, “but we should go.” He points at the door with his crutch, and in the light his face looks thinner and paler, drawn and wasted. His dead father is still on the floor. “I’ll figure it out,” he says to me as if reading my thoughts. “But for now, I have to get out of here.”
Quentin claps him on the shoulder and then gives him a quick side hug as he agrees. “You’ve seen enough, man,” he says gently.
After one last glance around, we turn off the lights and escape into the night. The rain has stopped, but the neighbors’ houses are still dark, the town silent with the exception of chirping crickets. I haven’t been out of the academy long—it was always quiet there. But after being in the human world these last few weeks, I’d become accustomed to noise.
I don’t like this kind of quiet because itfeelslike the academy. Isolating and ominous. Dangerous. I shiver in the night air.
