Annie:Yes.
Me:How is the suspicious natural light?
Annie:Aggressive. This house has too many windows and no respect for recovery.
The conversation could have continued safely for the rest of the evening. Small jokes. Harmless details. Nothing that required either of us to decide what happened after her five days ended.
I looked around the café.
Hank was arguing that pie contained fruit and therefore met several dietary categories. Rosa was refusing to recognize his research. Two tourists examined a map near the door. Outside, the Reef Rascal sign moved in the evening breeze.
This was still my life.
It had not become less mine because Annie had briefly entered it.
I returned to the screen.
Me:What are you doing with the rest of your time off?
The typing indicator appeared and disappeared.
Annie:I have been instructed to rest.
Me:That is not a location.
Annie:My house. Possibly a grocery store if the situation becomes critical.
Me:You have staff.
Annie:I also have dignity.
Me:Do you know where the grocery store is?
A longer pause followed.
Annie:I can locate it using modern navigation systems.
I laughed.
Hank looked over from the counter.
“Phone funny?”
“No.”
“Convincing.”
I lowered my gaze to the keyboard.
Inviting Annie back would not mean I trusted her completely. It would not erase the market, the office, Claire, or the millions of strangers who now knew enough to invent whatever remained.
It meant I wanted to see her.
The distinction should have made the decision smaller.
It did not.
I thought of my mother asking whether Annie threatened my peace or merely inconvenienced my control. I thought of the unfinished song, the private recording, and the fact that Annie had accepted every limit without behaving as though restraint earned her a prize.
