“It tickled,” she says with a nervous laugh.
Then I see them. Her eyes. Glowing. Silver with flecks of red, just like his. Likehis.
“Baby,” I whisper. “Stay still. Don’t move.”
She freezes. She’s too used to these moments.
The hum of the image inducer goes dead.
And there she is. All of her. Not the smooth hologram of a human child, but the impossible mix of me and Gyon.Her cheekbones sharper than they should be. Her hair darker, longer. Her fingernails slightly too thick, too glossy. Her irises gleaming like suns behind storm clouds.
I feel my chest crack open.
I fumble for the backup power pack. Click it into place. Wait.
Nothing.
“Mommy?” Her voice is too small now. “Did I break again?”
“No, sweetheart,” I say. My voice trembles. “You didn’t break.”
She reaches out and touches my cheek with a hand too strong for a four-year-old. Her thumb brushes a tear I didn’t know I shed.
“I like when I look like me.”
I want to scream. Instead, I smile. “I like it too. But not everyone would understand.”
“Because I’m different?”
“No.” I pull her close, press my forehead to hers. “Because they’reafraidof different.”
She hugs me tight. I feel her whole body shake.
That night, after she’s asleep, I sit in the dark for hours, staring at the broken device and the empty wallet on my terminal screen. I don’t want to go back to the spotlight. I don’t want to be aface.A commodity. A sob story turned sequel bait.
But then I think about that flash of fear in Pepper’s eyes when she realized something had gone wrong. I think about the way she clung to me. The way she said “I like when I look like me.”
And I realize I’d sell my soul for that girl’s safety.
So I dig through the trash, find the wrinkled business card Mylo shoved into my hand before I threw it away. Planetary Pictures. Personal comm line.
I stare at it until dawn.
Then I pick it up and call.
He answers on the first ring. “Ms. Rin?”
“You still want to make that franchise?” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
There’s a pause. Then that cocky smile filters through the comm line like static. “You just made my day.”
“Don’t get excited yet,” I warn. “We’re doing thismyway. No glam, no bullshit. I want script approval. I want full image rights. And I want a bonus clause if this thing sells.”
He whistles low. “Damn. You drive a hard bargain.”
“You have no idea.”
I hang up without saying goodbye.
