I twisted to follow Matt’s gaze, a knot in my gut. Two of LYPD’s finest in crisp uniforms were outside the cafe. One cop—holding the door for a woman wheeling a luxury stroller outside—was tall and lean with dark hair, late forties, his tan face creased like Mom’s leather purse. Maybe handsome once upon a time. The wistful look softening his face faded as he strode inside, his sad eyes sweeping the corners of the room as if expecting lurking bad guys. But when his gaze found us, he nudged his partner, a younger man with a blond buzz cut and tattoos climbing one arm, backward sunglasses tucked behind his head.

They started toward our table.

That explosion in the alley, Beard Dude crumpling from the blast…. Had the cops found out and tracked us here while we were busy cross-examining a stabby robot? Garrett did appear earnest. To his credit, he hadn’t exactly tried to kill us yet. And he sure seemed like my best bet for proving to Mom that Beard Guy was hunting me as Ko Prime’s twin.

I was slowly playing catch-up with what my gut had decided—to believe the bot, at least for now. “What do we do?” I whispered.

“You don’t do anything.” Garrett rose, his shoulders squared, and bounded toward the stairs.

I pushed to my feet, my chest heaving. Where was he going? If the police actually had something on me, and Mom found out, I’d be grounded for life—which might not be long if my investigation was cut short by being confined to my room.

The cops paced deeper into the coffee shop, side-stepping tables and overstuffed chairs. Old Cop had the posture of a lamppost, while Buzz Cut moved like a prowling tiger.

“Folks, if I may have your attention,” Old Cop said, absently squaring someone’s napkin with the corner of a table. “Please stay calm. We’re going to need you to clear the building. That means now.”

There was a collective grumble from the patrons as they collected their laptops and lattes, streaming toward the door.

Garrett took the stairs three at a time.

The officers padded to the steps, their hands near their sidearms, and slunk up after him.

The cops were after the bot. Not us. “Let’s get outta here while we still can.”

Matt wiped his brow. “What about Garrett?”

The sound of crashing glass erupted from somewhere above us. Through the windows, we watched Garrett fall to the sidewalk outside, rolling, a glittering spray of shards raining around him.

The customers outside screamed, shielding their heads.

The bot unfurled and took off at a loping run in one fluid motion, vanishing around the convenience store on the corner.

My eyes bulged. “Looks like he can take care of himself.” Who was this guy? And why hadn’t I gotten any contact info? We drifted toward the door behind a crush of fleeing customers.

The cops regarded us from the stairs. “You two kids,” Buzz Cut called in a Southern drawl, his sleeve tattoo flexing. “Yes, you, miniature Joyce and Hopper. We’d sure appreciate a word.”

My stomach plummeted. If we stopped to chat with LYPD, Garrett would really be gone—and my best chance at finding out what was going on would vanish with him.

Matt and I broke into a sprint. We made it to the sidewalk, glass crunching underfoot. One of the cops cursed behind us. I pushed past Sport Coat—only to yelp as I was jerked back, the older cop with a fistful of my collar.

Matt stopped in his tracks ahead of me, whirling back, agape.

Buzz Cut sauntered over and clapped a heavy paw on his shoulder. “I know how it is. I have three boys. At a certain age, your hearing plain stops working. Makes listening to your elders real tough.”

Matt and I exchanged a look. But before we could formulate a plan via telepathy, the cops led us around the corner onto a palm-lined sidewalk.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Crap. My skin crawled beneath the cop’s hand. I knew better than to resist arrest, having heard Mom’s protest stories. My voice grew shrill. “Where’re you taking us?”

“Wow, that one’s particularly bad,” Buzz Cut drawled. “Her ears must be all gummed up. Like I said, we have a few questions.”

Old Cop shook his head. “They’re just kids. They’re scared.”

“They need a firm hand,” Buzz Cut said. “You don’t know how they are at this age. You’re not exactly around yours anymore.”

Old Cop’s expression darkened, the lines of his jaw tight. “We’ll see about that.”

“Are we under arrest?” Pressure built in my chest, every breath coming faster than the last. “Are we being detained?”

The cops pulled us out of the sunshine into a shaded cobblestone alley with a graffiti-strewn delivery truck, the crunch of pine needles underfoot. Old Cop, my arm still clutched in one hand, slung open the truck’s roll-up door. A tool chest sat inside, restraints lining the walls.

Adrenaline flooded through me, my legs bracing. “They’re not cops!” I shrieked, twisting from the tall man’s grip and rocketing a knee into his groin just like Mom had taught me.

He went down with a low moan to writhe behind the truck, his hands cupped between his legs.

I spun back toward Matt and Buzz Cut, sweat pooling in the small of my back. I’d left the fricking pepper spray in the coffee shop. “Let him go!” I yelled.

Matt blinked, staring at me, his chin trembling.

“Look, kid,” Buzz Cut said, his eyes narrowed as if sizing me up. One hand still on Matt, the other crept toward his holstered weapon. “You have no idea what kinda shit you just stepped in.”

I licked my lips and glanced upward. “I could say the same about you.”

The man shoved Matt aside with a grunt and pulled his handgun free—just as a huge figure leapt from above with limbs splayed.

The cop’s gaze tilted up—too late. Because Garrett’s bot smashed into him as it plummeted from the truck, Buzz Cut crumpling to the ground like a stomped soda can.

My heart vaulted into my esophagus.

“Sorry about all that.” Garrett rose to dust himself off, his suit in tatters, Buzz Cut’s gun clutched in one hand. “It was, however, an excellent illustration of my point about the danger.”

“M-Matt, are you okay?” Thank the Lord for Garrett and his freakishly large bot.

“Uh.” Matt wiped his pale face. “I think so.”

Buzz Cut stirred, his bent limbs inching across the cobblestones.

I jumped back like he was a venomous snake.

Garrett stepped forward, raised the gun a few degrees, and fired into the man’s face.

For an instant, the muzzle flash chased away all the shade in the alley as the body shuddered on the ground.

Matt shrieked.

My hands went to my mouth, my knees buckling. “What the fuck. You murdered him!”

Garrett looked up at us, his eyebrows tilted. “What? Ohhh! No. I didn’t … He’s not a person. Look!” He hoisted the body like a rag doll, pivoting the head. Where there’d once been an eye, there gaped a softball-sized crater of jagged metal and electronics.

My legs gave out and I found myself crouched on the ground. This was too much.

“Eyes are the weak spot.” Garrett grinned, pointing at his sunglasses. “That’s why I replaced mine.”

My fingers scrubbed my scalp, my ears ringing. What was wrong with this guy? “You could’ve warned us!”

Garrett dropped the body, tucking the gun into his waistband. “I apologize. I saw him moving. It was clear he was a bot as soon as he walked into the coffee shop. I recently discovered these lenses support infrared.”

I shook my bandaged hand at him. “And you didn’t think to use that on me instead of getting all stabby?”

“I did. You were clean on infrared, but I needed to be certain you weren’t a bot given the twin situation.”

Matt whirled about, frantic. “Where’s the other guy?”

I froze, my face ablaze, staring at the empty cobblestones where the older man had fallen. Finally, I spotted him sprinting beyond the truck and disappearing around a corner.

Garrett tipped his chin in the man’s general direction. “That one’s human.” He heaved the robot corpse into the truck with an echoing metallic thump. Then he tossed in the gun, yanking down the truck’s door and latching it into place.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“No robot makes that kind of sound when it gets hit in the cash and prizes.”

Matt snickered shakily.

I shook my head. How could anyone joke now?

“So would you folks like to get some food?” Garrett asked. “My treat.”

“You don’t have any money,” Matt said.

“I don’t have an appetite after that,” I added.

“Also, you’re a robot,” Matt concluded.

Garrett inclined his head, brushing his hands on his trousers.

“Those are all valid points. Allow me to rephrase. Would you folks care to depart before the real police show up?”