Misha’s grin broadens as he leans over to pinch my cheek. “God, look at you being cute.”
“Shut up,” I murmur, pushing him, and he almost topples back in his chair, laughing.
Grey, however, seems less amused. He smiles, but it’s a tight, forced expression. “Just make sure your right moment isn’t too late,” he says, his voice tinged with something I can’t quite place.
An unease stirs in me at his tone.
What is he implying?
We turn our attention back to the feed. Amelia is sitting on her couch, a bowl of ice cream in hand. Grey frowns at the screen. “Ice cream for dinner? Really, Princess?”
I don’t like that he has a nickname for her, but she seems to enjoy it, so I have to deal with it and maybe think of my own nickname for her.
Amelia puts the bowl aside and speaks to Jamie, “Can you keep a secret for me?”
“Of course, Amelia. What secret?”
Fuck, should we really listen to this?
“I’m working on a project no one knows about, and I’d love for it to stay that way, so I’d be glad if you didn’t share this with anyone.”
“For you, I can be the void, Amelia,” Jamie agrees.
We exchange glances, Grey’s brows deeply furrowed. “What project? Did she say anything about it today?”
“No,” I shake my head. “Haven’t talked with her about her own work yet.”
Why didn’t we do that?
Amelia starts typing on her laptop, and a new underlying tab catches my eye on my second screen that mirrors what is on hers—a tab that had been hidden from me before. My heart races as I lean in closer, squinting at the vast algorithm.
“What is that?” Misha murmurs next to me.
“I have no idea, but it’s… wow,” I whisper, my eyes darting across the complex code.
Amelia stands and puts her laptop away before she pushes a button on the side of her glasses I hadn’t noticed before, and the atmosphere in the room shifts. The ultra-red sensors in her apartment go crazy on my screen as she flips her hand and sits back down. She moves like she’s controlling a panel as if she’s using AR, but there’s no lens whatsoever, just her glasses.
“Is she doing what I think she is?” Grey asks, his voice laced with astonishment.
Amelia starts typing on air, and I can’t help but laugh, a mix of amazement and pride swelling inside me. “Oh my God, she’s a fucking genius.”
I knew she was smart, but this is… outstanding.
“She has AR at home that works with her glasses? How? And why isn’t that breaking news at Elysium?” Misha’s voice is full of awe.
“Because she’s hiding it,” Grey says, his voice low and serious.
“But why?” I murmur, more to myself than to them.
We watch in silence as Amelia continues her work, her fingers moving through the air with practiced ease and a grace that reminds me of her playing the piano.
The implications of her invention, the fact that she’s keeping it a secret—it all whirls through my mind.
Why would you hide such brilliance, Amelia?
TWENTY-FOUR
It’s been a long-ass day.
