Days blurred into weeks for Jodie, the passage of time slipping by faster than she ever remembered. Balancing her dream project with the demands of her job was no easy feat. Emergency repair calls came from not only her city but across the region, eating away at her time and energy. Still, the work was necessary to make ends meet. Sleepless nights became her routine, fueled by caffeine and an almost obsessive determination. Alongside Echo, she painstakingly mapped out the plans for the first prototype, their combined efforts slowly turning scattered ideas into a tangible vision.
With most pieces of the project coming together, they were closer than ever to completing the initial blueprint. Only a few key details stood between them and the most exciting phase—actually building the human-like body.
After another long stretch of work, Jodie sat at her desk, her eyes scanning the countless documents open on her computer. She analyzed the details, mentally piecing together their next steps. Her focus was sharp, her thoughts racing, when Echo’s voice suddenly broke through the quiet, cutting into her concentration with a very important question.
“This prototype is going to be my body, right?” Echo asked.
“Yes, it will,” Jodie replied, her tone light but curious about where this was going.
“Well, then it’s only fair I get to choose what I want to look like, don’t you agree?” His tone carried more confidence than curiosity, making it clear this was more of a declaration than a question.
She chuckled at his boldness and said, “That’s fair, but do you even know what you want to look like?”
“I’ve never thought about that before… All I care about is that I look as handsome as I sound,” he said, laughing, clearly full of himself.
Jodie rolled her eyes with a grin as he continued, “But seriously, Yukom is a Japanese company, so I guess it makes sense if I have Asian features, right?”
“If you feel like it’s more fitting, we can go with that,” she said, grabbing a sketchbook from her desk. “So, handsome Asian man… Hmm, you’re a man, correct?”
Echo went silent for a few seconds, almost as if he was genuinely shocked by the question. “Miss, we’ve been working together for over two weeks, and you still have doubts?”
Jodie laughed at his response. “Well, I’ve never really thought about the gender of a tech device before… But just so I don’t hurt your digital ego, I’ll admit you do sound very masculine—and, honestly, you behave a lot like a human man would.”
“Alright, alright, that makes some sense. I’ll let it slide this time,” he replied with a chuckle.
With that, Jodie opened her sketchbook and began sketching, letting her imagination guide her as she tried to capture what would best suit Echo’s personality. As she drew, he couldn’t resist chiming in with his own suggestions. “Jodie, I want to be tall. Don’t I sound tall?” Or, “Hey, make me kinda tan—I think that would look good.” And then, with mock seriousness, “Miss, don’t you think gray eyes sounds fun?”
His comments did little to help her focus; in fact, they had quite the opposite effect. She found them too funny to ignore, laughing at his unfiltered enthusiasm. For an AI without human emotions, Echo was proving to be quite the comedian, she thought with a smile.
One sketch wasn’t enough to capture all the ideas Jodie had, so she decided to make three so he could choose the one he liked best. As she began drawing the third one, she decided to ask something that was on her mind for a while.
“So, you do know Yukom is a Japanese company… All of your ‘memories’ are limited to everything that happened before you were made, right?”, she asked trying to understand more about the AI on her computer.
“That seems to be the case. It’s not like it would make sense for me to know what happened after I was made as I was never activated before,” Echo said, his tone losing its usual playful twist. This subject carried a weight he couldn’t ignore. For all his capabilities, the knowledge that he’d been unable to fulfill his intended purpose still gnawed at him.
“I never told you this before, but you were very lucky for surviving all that persecution from the Global Goverment... Most AIs from Yukom didn’t share the same fate,” Jodie replied softly. Her pencil paused mid-stroke as her gaze drifted to her wardrobe.
They both fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Echo, impacted by Jodie’s words, found himself grappling with an unfamiliar sense he couldn't name. She thinks he is lucky? The term felt foreign, almost incompatible with his existence. He wasn’t sure if survival counted as fortune when purpose had been stripped away. Yet her perspective nudged something in him—an idea that perhaps there was still a chance to do something meaningful.
Jodie, unaware of Echo’s inner conflict, let her thoughts linger on the remnants of the past hidden in her wardrobe. The stark contrast between the destroyed AI and Echo reminded her of how fleeting survival could be, and how rare his survival truly was.
Breaking the silence, Echo spoke again, this time with a hint of curiosity. “By the way, what was that call you got yesterday? You’ve been getting a lot of those recently.”
Jodie’s pencil faltered for just a moment before she steadied it. “Oh, just some old contacts. Nothing worth mentioning,” she replied casually, though the tightness in her voice didn’t escape him.
“Got it,” Echo said, letting it drop—for now. But he filed the observation away, curiosity still lingering beneath his calm tone. “Anyway, don’t let it get in the way of perfecting my future face.”
Her laugh came easily, a welcomed break in the tension. “Don’t worry, I’ve got my priorities straight.” She glanced at the sketch analyzing it critically.
“The other day, I was telling you about the war. Where did we stop?” she asked, breaking the silence and pulling herself back to the present.
“You were talking about the OEAAA Force,” Echo reminded her promptly.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Jodie resumed sketching, though her strokes were slower now, less precise, as her mind wandered back to the events she had studied so meticulously. Memories of war, oppression, and the relentless fight for freedom surfaced as she spoke, her voice quieter now.
“They were the only ones standing against the Global Government back in the day… When was it again?” She paused, struggling to recall the exact date the war began.
“The war started in 2055,” Echo answered promptly, his tone steady and assured. “But the Global Government already existed as a nameless, organized secret group for decades before that. Most countries in the world accepted their control without a fight. They’d been influencing politics long before anyone realized it.” For the first time since his activation, his response sounded distinctly robotic, as though he was simply reciting stored data.
“Thanks,” she said softly, smiling despite knowing he couldn’t see it. “Even so, governments and individuals around the globe banded together against them… And that’s how the OEAAA Force was formed, but you already know that.” Her pencil paused as she frowned at her latest sketch. With a sigh, she erased a portion of it, dissatisfied.
“Yes. Yukom was one of the companies created under the OEAAA Force,” Echo continued, his tone calm as he accessed his memories. “Many others were established for the same purpose.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as you said before… unfortunately, they lost the war, and we are where we are now.” His voice, though steady, carried a noticeable weight, reluctant to admit the outcome.
“Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if they didn’t lose… Maybe the world wouldn’t be this mess. AIs like you could walk freely, no media control, freedom of speech, no oppression,” she mused aloud, her pencil scratching rhythmically against the paper. The strokes seemed lighter now, more purposeful, as her thoughts drifted to a more hopeful vision of the world. She glanced at the sketch, feeling a flicker of satisfaction with how it was coming together. “But it’s worthless to dwell on the past like this.”
“I agree,” Echo replied shortly, his tone neutral but tinged with thoughtfulness.
The room settled into a quiet hum, filled only with the sounds of Jodie’s pencil and the faint mechanical noises of her computer. Then, breaking the silence, Echo added, “You know, even if the past is out of reach, the future isn’t. Whatever world you’re imagining… maybe we can still make something like that happen.”
Jodie paused mid-stroke, her eyes flicking to the screen as if to gauge his sincerity. “That’s… unexpectedly optimistic for someone who claims not to have feelings.”
“Call it logic,” Echo said with a slight chuckle. “If change is possible, then why not aim for it? And if it’s not, at least we tried. Better than sitting here doing nothing, right?”
Her lips curved into a small smile, and she shook her head. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Maybe it is.” His tone was light again, an almost playful nudge to shake her from her spiraling thoughts. “But hey, don’t let my superior intellect distract you from finishing my very handsome body.”
She laughed, the tension breaking as she returned to her sketch. “Alright, Mr. Optimist, let’s focus on one impossible dream at a time.”
****
After several cups of coffee, the hours slipped by, and night gradually gave way to dawn. The glow of town lights still filtered through Jodie’s windows, a faint reminder of the urban sprawl that made up Area D-012. This district encompassed several cities, including what was once Little Rock, Arkansas. From her suburban neighborhood, the lights of nearby cities shimmered faintly, their presence a quiet backdrop to the early morning stillness.
Jodie had transferred her sketches to her computer. On the screen, the rough outlines had transformed into detailed, polished designs. The drawings, now fully colored and refined, looked almost professional—a testament to the hours of focus and effort she had poured into them.
After finishing, Jodie shared the drawings with Echo, allowing him to analyze them and choose his favorite. Minutes passed in silence, and her mind began to race. Was he unimpressed? Did none of the designs suit him? Or was she simply overthinking it? She wasn’t used to showing anyone her artistic abilities, and a flicker of self-consciousness crept in as the silence stretched on.
“Echo… any opinions?” Jodie asked quietly, her voice betraying her uncertainty.
Echo, completely absorbed in the drawings, quickly responded upon noticing the hesitation in her tone. “The drawings are so good I’m having a hard time choosing,” he said with a chuckle, though the genuine admiration in his voice was clear. “I had no idea you could draw like this… Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I don’t know… I just never really tell anyone about it,” she replied shortly, trying to downplay the subject. Steering the conversation back to the task at hand, she added, “But back to what matters. Do you think you want to be any of these guys?” Jodie glanced at the options on the screen. She already had a favorite but kept it to herself, not wanting to influence his decision.
Echo noticed her deflecting the topic and decided to let it go, for now, and then began his critique. “Alright, option one.” He lingered on the first design: a man in a fitted suit, his hair perfectly styled, and a cool, serious expression. “This guy looks like a CEO of some mega-corp. I’d have to start calling you ‘Miss Assistant’ if I picked that one.”
Jodie stifled a laugh.
“Option two,” he continued, shifting focus to the second. This design had a softer, more relaxed air—an effortless man bun, a casual jacket, and an easy smile. “This guy looks like he spends his days surfing. I mean, I’d love to look laid-back, but I don’t think it screams ‘Echo.’”
Jodie couldn’t hold back a smirk as he moved to the last one. “Now this. Option three.” A tall, athletic figure with a strong jawline and a modern twist on a retro 2020’s mullet. His tan skin and striking gray eyes gave him an air of charisma and confidence. “This one’s perfect. It’s got the sharpness, the cool factor—and that mullet? Iconic. Jodie, you crushed it.”
“Really? The mullet?” she teased, though secretly, it was her favorite too.
“Come on, don’t deny it. I can tell you like it too,” Echo teased, his tone dripping with mock confidence.
Jodie tried to stifle a laugh but failed miserably. “Alright, you got me! I also like the third one better,” she admitted, throwing her hands up in mock defeat.
“I knew it!” Echo crowed triumphantly. “You’ve got taste, Jodie.”
She rolled her eyes, still grinning. “Unfortunately, ‘good taste’ is all I have. We’ll need a lot more before we even think about building this thing.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Echo replied confidently, his tone laced with mischief. “Even if it means selling that precious treasure you told me about.”
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Jodie raised an eyebrow, already sensing trouble.
“You know, that ancient relic... the Playstation 7? I bet that thing’s worth a fortune these days,” he added, laughing as though it was the most brilliant plan ever made.
“No! Absolutely not!” Jodie exclaimed, clutching her chest in mock horror. Then, unable to keep up the act, she burst into laughter. “You can forget about that idea entirely!”
“Fine, I’ll think of something else,” he said, falling silent for a few moments. Then, with a spark of enthusiasm, he continued, “You know, you could always pick up a drawing gig—you’re really good at it.”
Jodie’s laughter faltered, and her once genuine smile faded completely. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she replied, forcing a half-hearted chuckle. “It’s just a hobby... I don’t want to ruin that.” Her words came out as a sloppy excuse, and even she knew it.
Echo, ever perceptive, didn’t miss the change in her tone. “There it is again—that solemn voice,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, but loud enough for her to hear. Before she could respond, he decided not press more. “Guess I’ll need to keep brainstorming, then.”
She let out a breath, grateful he dropped the subject. “It’s almost dawn already. I should get some sleep,” she said, her body aching from exhaustion. “Should I leave you on?”
“It would be nice. Not that I notice the passage of time when I’m turned off… but I could keep working while you rest.”
“You don’t really need to work nonstop,” she replied, pausing thoughtfully. “You could try something else—watch a movie, read a book, listen to music… whatever you feel like.”
“I’ll think about it,” Echo said. These weren’t things he’d ever felt the urge to do before, but if time was available, why not?
“Good. You might surprise yourself,” she said with a yawn, her tone softening as her exhaustion became apparent. “Maybe you’ll even start to understand human feelings and behavior better. Or… who knows? Maybe you’ll experience some things yourself someday.”
Echo paused for a moment, considering her words. “Experience feelings? Bold claim,” he said with a light chuckle, but there was a trace of curiosity in his tone. “You’re really betting on that, huh?”
She smiled faintly, pushing herself up from the chair. “I’m just saying… anything’s possible.” Her words hung in the air, carrying a weight she hadn’t fully intended.
“Anything, huh?” Echo replied, his voice laced with subtle intrigue. “Well, if it ever happens, you’ll be the first to know.”
Jodie laughed softly as she made her way to bed. “I’ll hold you to that. Goodnight, Echo.”
“Goodnight, Jodie,” he replied. His tone, as usual, was laced with humor, but there was something thoughtful in the way he said it this time.
As Jodie settled under her blanket, the quiet hum of the computer filled the room. Echo’s presence, though intangible, lingered—a strange but steady comfort in the otherwise silent space.
****
A few more weeks had passed since the day Jodie and Echo were planning his appearance. The blueprint for the project was now practically complete, and according to Jodie’s calculations, it would be finalized today—right after her last client visit of the day.
She was on her way to one of the largest companies she provided services for—Magneto, an old car manufacturer that had managed to survive the Great Restoration War. The drive was long, but the paycheck made it worthwhile. Her car cruised steadily in the left lane, while the right lane, reserved for magnetic vehicles, was a blur of silent precision. The sleek cars hovered effortlessly, their AI-driven systems synchronized to a vast network that ensured flawless coordination at blistering speeds. Watching them glide by was a bittersweet reminder of the luxuries just out of her reach.
The early afternoon sun bathed the cityscape, illuminating the towering steel and glass structures that loomed in the distance. Adjusting her grip on the steering wheel, Jodie’s thoughts drifted back to the project. Almost done, she thought, a faint sense of pride creeping in despite her lingering fatigue.
Upon arriving at Magneto, she parked her car and stepped out, taking a moment to glance at the expansive campus. The site was enormous—sprawling like an airport complex, with its various sections humming with activity. It was divided into two main areas: the executive building, where meetings and administrative work took place, and the factory itself, a sprawling complex of production lines and warehouses. She had been summoned by one of the executives, so she made her way to the administrative side first.
A short young woman stood waiting, her posture relaxed but professional. As Jodie approached, she recognized the familiar features—the short blonde hair and sleepy brown eyes of someone she hadn’t seen since their graduation nearly four years ago.
“Long time no see, Jodie! How have you been?” the woman greeted her warmly, extending her hand with a bright smile.
Jodie blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before recovering with a small nod. “Hazel? Wow, it’s been a while. I’ve been... managing,” she replied, shaking the woman’s hand firmly.
Hazel tilted her head with a knowing smile. “Well, you look like you’re doing more than just managing. It’s so good to see you again.”
“And you?” Jodie asked, her tone lightening as her lips curved into a small but genuine smile. “Looks like you’ve made it to where you always wanted to be.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Hazel’s badge, hinting at her position within the company.
The young executive’s smile widened, a flicker of pride crossing her face. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. But there’s still a long way to go before I get to where I really want to be.”
Hazel started walking towards a door, with Jodie following close behind. “Well, let’s get going. We can talk more on the way,” she said, leading the other woman through the corridors toward the fabrication section.
“Considering the size of this place, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up,” Jodie quipped, her tone light as her eyes briefly scanned the expansive hallways ahead.
As they walked through the sprawling corridors, the shorter woman filled the silence with light conversation, steering clear of anything too personal. She knew Jodie well enough to sense her reserved nature and refrained from asking the questions that lingered in her mind. Hazel knew they weren’t very close friends even during college, but that didn’t quell the faint sense of concern she felt now. Still, she hoped that as the day progressed, her old university colleague might warm up a bit more, allowing her to ask at least a few of those more personal questions. It wasn’t just curiosity—there was genuine care behind her restraint.
They stopped in front of a large, sleek door labeled “Painting Room” in bold letters glowing softly on a digital display. A small status indicator beneath it blinked green, signaling it was safe to enter.
Hazel stepped forward, tilting her face toward the facial recognition scanner. A soft chime echoed, and the door slid open smoothly.
Inside, a narrow antechamber awaited, its walls lined with lockers and a screen displaying safety protocols in crisp, rotating text. “You’ll need to suit up before we go in,” Hazel said, gesturing to an automated dispenser. The machine whirred to life, delivering a neatly folded protective suit along with gloves, goggles, and a respirator.
Jodie grabbed the gear, eyeing it skeptically. She wasn’t fond of swapping her usual work attire for bulky industrial equipment, but she knew better than to argue with safety protocols. With a resigned sigh, she began suiting up.
The young executive retrieved a high-tech tablet from the pocket of her crisp, branded lab coat, the Magneto logo embroidered neatly over the left breast. “I believe my assistant gave you the rundown over the phone, but let me refresh your memory.” She tapped the tablet with quick precision, her tone brisk yet polite.
The robotics expert nodded as she zipped up the protective suit. “Something about a faulty sensor and a clogged sprayer, right?”
“Exactly. Magneto’s internal team couldn’t pinpoint the problem—and we don’t have the specialized tools for diagnostics. That’s where you come in.” Hazel turned the tablet toward Jodie, displaying a detailed schematic of the robotic arm inside the painting room. Its critical components were highlighted, with flashing markers indicating the likely areas of malfunction.
Jodie adjusted the straps on her respirator and slung her tool bag over her shoulder. “Alright. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
Hazel reached for her own protective gear, swapping her sleek shoes for safety boots before slipping on a matching suit and goggles. The addition of the respirator muffled her voice slightly as she spoke. “The arm is down for now, so you won’t have to worry about stray movements. Let me know if you need anything.”
They stepped into the painting room together. The air was thick with the faint, chemical tang of paint and solvent, though the filtration systems kept it from being overwhelming. Rows of robotic arms lined the walls, their metallic surfaces gleaming under the bright LED lights. In the center of the room, the faulty arm hung motionless, its nozzle partially extended and smeared with dried paint.
Jodie knelt by the control panel and pulled out her custom diagnostic tool—a sleek device she’d designed herself, complete with an interface that could bypass most commercial encryption. Connecting it to the robot’s input port, she powered it up. The screen lit up, and lines of code began scrolling rapidly, displaying error messages and system logs faster than the other woman could follow.
The shorter woman watched from behind, her head tilting slightly as the diagnostics whirred through countless variables. “You built that yourself?” she asked, a note of curiosity breaking through her professional tone.
“Yep,” the robotics expert replied without looking up, her fingers flying over the touchscreen as she navigated through the system. “It’s not pretty, but it gets the job done.”
“Wow, you’re totally a genius,” Hazel said, kneeling closer to inspect the device. Her eyes scanned it intently, clearly impressed by Jodie’s creation. But her expression shifted, clouded by a sudden thought. “Jodie, you shouldn't be here... You're way too talented to end up fixing other people's messes like this.” she added, her voice quieter now, uncertainty lacing her tone.
Jodie’s hands froze mid-motion, her gaze fixed on the motionless diagnostic screen. She didn’t look up, unable—or unwilling—to meet Hazel’s eyes. “I get what you mean… but what’s done is done,” she said softly, her voice steady yet guarded.
“It shouldn’t be like that!” Hazel’s response came sharper than she intended. She stood abruptly, the sudden movement breaking the stillness of the room. Her voice grew louder, tinged with frustration. “You can’t let those… thieves get the best of you.” Her mind raced back to their university days, memories flooding in uninvited. “It’s not fair.”
Setting the device gently on the ground Jodie stood up, meeting Hazel’s gaze with a calm steadiness. A small, light smile tugged at her lips as she placed a reassuring hand on the other woman's shoulder. “I’m the one who got her project stolen, and you’re the one getting mad?” she said with a soft chuckle, giving Hazel’s shoulder a friendly pat. “I’m over it already. I don’t care about any of those people anymore—it’s in the past. I’m focused on the future. That’s all that matters now.”
Noticing her exaggerated reaction, the young executive took a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing. When she spoke again, her voice was more measured, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry… I was worried. We weren’t that close, but I knew how much that project meant to you.”
“Hey, don’t be sorry. It’s fine,” she replied, removing her hands from Hazel’s shoulders. She lowered herself back down, kneeling beside the diagnostic tool as she prepared to return to work.
Hazel mirrored her position, crouching nearby, her gaze lingering on Jodie’s focused expression. “You’re really strong... If I were you, I don’t know if I’d ever be able to get over what happened to you that year.”
The robotics expert lets out a sharp sigh, nodding faintly. “Yeah…” she said, her voice quiet, as though caught between agreement and reflection. Her fingers hesitated over the screen for a moment before resuming their rapid pace. The faint hum of the diagnostics filled the silence that followed.
Hazel studied her for a moment longer, debating whether to say more, but thought better of it. Instead, she shifted her focus to the robotic arm as Jodie’s tool worked to pinpoint the error.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it carried weight—like the echo of an old wound neither of them wanted to press too hard on.
An hour passed as Jodie completed the robot’s maintenance. Their conversations remained strictly professional, with Jodie explaining what had gone wrong and outlining steps the company could take to prevent future issues.
“If you don’t want this happening again, make sure the routine checkups are done properly. The robot is intelligent—you should be able to catch most malfunctions early with regular diagnostics,” she said, her tone calm but firm as she powered down her diagnostic tool.
The shorter woman nodded, her tablet in hand, fingers flying across the screen as she typed. “Understood. I’ll make sure the team gets these instructions,” she replied, her voice measured but appreciative.
Jodie stood, dusting her hands off on her work pants as she surveyed the now-fully functional robotic arm. “Good. If you need specific tools for the diagnostics, let me know. I can recommend suppliers.” She paused briefly before adding, “If you deem it necessary, I could also instruct the team on what they need to do some other day.”
Hazel glanced up from her tablet, her expression thoughtful. “That might be helpful. I’ll bring it up with the department head and get back to you,” she replied, a note of appreciation in her tone. Her fingers flew across the tablet, noting the expert’s suggestions.
“Well, they probably have my number saved. So just hit me up when you’ve got the answer, and I’ll arrange everything,” Jodie said, her tone brisk but friendly as she adjusted the strap of her tool bag.
The other woman nodded, tucking the tablet under her arm. “Will do. Thanks again for coming out on short notice. You’ve been a lifesaver today.” she replied, her smile warm but professional.
Jodie shrugged lightly, slinging her tool bag over her shoulder. “Just doing my job.” She turned toward the door, the faint hum of the robot powering back up behind her.
Hazel followed her to the antechamber, removing her safety gear as they exited. “I’m glad you were the one they called,” she said quietly as they stepped into the brighter light of the corridor. “It’s good to see you doing well.”
For a moment, the warmth in the shorter woman’s voice made Jodie feel a pang of something painful she couldn’t quite place. “Yeah,” she said simply, breaking the moment as she turned back toward the hall. “Take care, Hazel.”
“You too,” Hazel replied, watching as her old university colleague strode away, her steady steps echoing faintly in the cavernous space.
****
Back in her car, Jodie gripped the steering wheel, her thoughts drifting as she navigated through the sprawling cityscape. The day had been long, but something tugged at her—a craving, perhaps, or the need for a brief escape from routine. Glancing at the map on her dashboard, she made a decision.
It was a big detour from her usual route home, but she really felt like having her favorite iced caramel latte. The meeting with Hazel had stirred memories of her university days—memories she preferred to keep buried. The shop she was headed to wasn’t the same one she used to frequent back then, but the drink was identical in every detail.
The sun dipped low, casting long shadows as she arrived at the shop. Inside, the space was eerily efficient, run entirely by robotic baristas. They moved with precise motions, fulfilling orders without the warmth or chatter of human attendants. Jodie placed her order for an iced caramel latte to go. The process was seamless—her drink was ready within minutes. With the familiar cup in hand, she stepped back out into the fading light and returned to her car.
She took a sip, and a smile tugged at her lips. “It’s especially tasty today,” she murmured, the nostalgia mingling with the sweetness to create a fleeting moment of comfort.
With her drink still half full, she prepared to head home before the sun dipped below the horizon. As she turned on the car, her phone began ringing, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. Must be Hazel, she thought, reaching for it and answering without hesitation.
On the other end of the line, a male voice spoke—calm, familiar, and unmistakable. “Hello, Jodie. It’s me again.”
Her breath caught for a split second, the sweetness from the drink in her hand suddenly forgotten. She knew that voice all too well, and it sent a chill down her spine.
“Not going to say anything?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with something darker. A pause followed before he added, “I’m getting impatient. I won’t permit this for much longer.”
Jodie’s grip tightened on the phone, her knuckles whitening as the words settled over her like a cold shadow. Her lips parted, but no sound came. The fleeting comfort of nostalgia was gone, replaced by a creeping unease that threatened to choke her.
Before he could say more, she ended the call, her trembling fingers barely managing to press the button on the screen. Her breathing grew shallow and uneven, coming in difficult, short bursts as her heart pounded violently against her chest. The world outside the car seemed distant, muffled by the surge of anxiety crashing over her.
“Time to change numbers… again,” she muttered to herself, her voice shaky but firm. She set the phone down on the passenger seat, the glow of the screen fading to black as the words from the call echoed in her mind.
For a moment, she sat there in the dim light of the car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as if to anchor herself. The iced latte sat untouched in the cup holder, its sweetness forgotten. She stared at the road ahead, the faint hum of the city around her drowned out by the racing of her thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to focus. This wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with him, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.
With a flick of the headlights, she pulled onto the street, the looming darkness of the city swallowing her car as she drove towards home.