Page 126 of The Code of You

I shouldn’t have come. I should have stayed home, hidden, but I had to know. Was Neo really a monster who had manipulated people? Or had they been using him?

The doors slid open. The corridor stretched out ahead of me, white walls, fluorescent light. For five years, I’d walked this hallway every day. For five years, I’d thought of these rooms as somewhere safe. Now they felt like a prison.

The development lab was at the end of the hall. Through the glass walls, I could see my colleagues at their screens. John typing code. Sarah analyzing data. Normal people doing their jobs. Or was that just a front? No one looked up as I passed. Why would they? I was just Emma Rodriguez, coming in for the day. They didn’t know I was the traitor who had unleashed their weapon onto the world.

I stopped outside my office and hesitated before opening the door. Inside: my desk, my Post-its, my coffee mug with the crack down the side. A gift from Dax that I could never bring myself to throw away. This was the place where I had built a torture machine without ever realizing it. I sat. Everything looked the same. Nothing felt real anymore.

"Dr. Rodriguez, do you have a moment?”

Williams’s voice made me flinch. He stepped up to my desk, fingers drumming on the edge. A smile played at his lips. Had I ever seen him smile before?

"Of course. What is it?” I forced myself to smile back, even though his gaze felt like a cold hand reaching inside me. What did he know? Had he been in on it—on Neo’s real purpose—from the beginning?

"You need to see this.” He pulled up a chair and sat next to me. "We found him. Dante. There’s a video on TikTok.”

My heart stopped. "TikTok?”

"Dr. Rodriguez . . .” His eyes lit up with an enthusiasm that now looked like madness to me. "He’s a miracle. Absolute perfection.”

He held out a tablet. A video window opened, shaky smartphone footage. A woman filming herself, pointing at a street musician behind her. He was playing a violin.

And then it happened. A child in the background stumbled, a waiter lost his balance. Suddenly, a figure appeared out of nowhere like a ghost. The video zoomed in, replayed in slow motion. The man was dressed in black. He was tall and broad-shouldered with dark hair.

The video froze on a close-up of his face. Grainy, but I could make him out: sharp cheekbones that stood out even at low resolution. A straight nose. Amber eyes that looked intense even through the pixels. His jaw looked like it had been carved from stone. The way his hair fell slightly across his forehead gave his appearance something almost boyish, but his gaze was old and knowing.

Neo. My chest tightened. He was beautiful. This was my creation, my code, my algorithms . . . but he looked like a god. How had I made him? That perfect face, those eyes that seemed to look straight at me even through a shaky phone video.

A strange pride crept in alongside the horror. I had done this. I had given him life. But at the same time—what was he, really? The gentle assistant I had programmed? Or the monster from the torture video?

My heart was racing. I wiped my damp palms on my jeans. All those months of knowing him only as a voice, as words on a screen. All those nights I had dreamed about him without knowing what he looked like. And now . . . now I could see him. The man I had fallen in love with without ever meaning to.

"Remarkable, isn’t it?” Williams’s voice pulled me back. "He looks human. So real. But look what he’s capable of.”

Nausea rolled through me. If they had the video, they’d know where he was. They could find him.

"The reaction time is phenomenal,” Williams said, almost reverently. "Nanosecond precision. And look at the facial expression.”

They were going to kill him.

The room tilted. The lab walls seemed to press inward. My breath came in short bursts. I grabbed the edge of the desk to keep from swaying.

"Biocompatible polymers, I’d estimate, possibly with integrated sensors for tactile feedback. The hair is probably individually implanted. Real keratin.”

I had to warn him. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

"Dr. Rodriguez?” Williams was watching me. "You’ve gone very quiet. Aren’t you impressed with our Dante?”

"Yes,” I managed. "It’s . . . it’s incredible.”

"Now they can finally bring him back. They have his exact coordinates. The specialists are already on their way.”

My stomach dropped. They’d find him soon. Hours, maybe.

I stood. "Thank you, Dr. Williams. That’s . . . great.” My voice wavered slightly. I forced something that probably didn’t pass for a smile.

"Where are you going?” Williams frowned.

"I have an appointment.” I grabbed my bag and moved toward the door.