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Twyla
The ornamental door dug into my temple as I leaned against it, listening to the voices in the formal sitting room. The high-pitched polished tone was unmistakable.
So, the Philipses had arrived. It hadn’t taken them more than an hour—at least, that was what I estimated based on the time I’d spent clawing at the large bay windows to pry them open. I thought I’d gotten some headway with the windows that faced the front lawn, but the more I dug into the wooden frames, pulling with all the strength I had, the more the edges of my nails peeled off like they were made of paper.
It was so very hard not to spiral into self-pity, especially when I noticed the gardening bot watching me with utter confusion, its vacant eyes staring straight into mine as it tried to assess the situation.
The HumanoidGadgets bots were pretty smart on their own—their ability to complete chores and hold conversations were unprecedented in the market. But as I slumped against the window, watching as the gardening bot turned back to pruning the bushes, I knew that it had assessed the circumstances and made a logical decision that it couldn’t help me. The windows were locked tight, and no one outside the house would be able to hack the locks. Not unless they were to throw a brick at high speed through the reinforced glass. Even that might not work.
I wrapped my bleeding fingers in the hem of Cedra’s nightshirt as I strained my ears, trying to catch any conversation on the other side of the sitting room. There was the telltale sound of glasses clinking together and light practiced laughter.
I pressed my ear flat against the carved wood, trying to make out the conversation.
“...beyond delighted to get your call. Weren’t we, love?” Mrs. Philips was saying.
“Yes, Mother.” Tion’s tone was agreeable as always—why did that grate on my nerves so much? “How is my lovely fiancée doing?”
My fists clenched reflexively at that word and I hissed as the wounds on my fingers came to life.
Mother sighed dramatically. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. She suffered a minor injury on the way here and seems a little confused, but she’ll come around.”
“Oh dear, that sounds dire. May we see her?” Tion asked with some degree of concern.
There was a pause, and I could imagine my parents sharing a look.
Surely, they wouldn’t let him in here, would they? I feared I wouldn’t be able to control my words. No matter how I felt about the tiny man, I didn’t want to hurt him unnecessarily.
The truth was, he would probably make a decent partner for someone else. He was reasonably good looking, and I was sure his money would make his flaws look dismissible to anyone he courted next.
As I held my breath, Father’s voice cut through the thick doorframe. “She’s indisposed right now, Irah. But we wanted to see you to share the news and perhaps speak about the wedding plans again.”
“No!” The word burst from my lips as I hurled my injured fist at the heavy door, feeling the grooves dig into my flesh. “I won’t go through with the wedding!”
“What in heavens—” Irah’s startled voice was interrupted by a sharp ringing of the doorbell in the background. “Was that Twyla’s voice? Where is she?”
“I’m in here!”
Oh, to hell with sparing Tion’s feelings! As I continued pounding on the hard wood, I heard footsteps moving quickly over the hardwood floors and the telltale creak of our front door.
There was a low, growling voice I couldn’t quite place, to which the bot responded: “My employers are receiving guests at the moment. Perhaps you’d like to leave a message or return at another time.”
“We’re here with a warrant to investigate a kidnapping charge.” My own gasp resounded loudly in my ears as I sat up straighter. “We will need to see your employers without delay.”
There was another long pause as I strained to hear what was going on out there.
Heavy boots thudded on the floors, and I thought perhaps I felt their reverberation in the next room.
“What’s going on here?” I could hear the surprise in Father’s voice.
“Apologies for interrupting your afternoon, sir. We’re here on official duty from the peacekeeping corps. I’m Second Commander Berr Windsome, and these are my colleagues Magh Prince and Trin Wallace. We received a report early this morning about an unlawful kidnapping.”
There were little tapping noises, as though someone was working on an e-reader.
Irah’s high voice resonated in the background. “But I thought you submitted that kidnapping report to the authorities long ago, Tage.”
“The report was not submitted by Mr. Oboid,” the low, rumbling voice said.
“Dr. Oboid,” my Father corrected automatically.
