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“My old friend Scott’s mom?” Troy asked in disbelief as Scarlett gasped.
Remembered fondly from seven years ago, their friend Nancy from their former neighborhood swayed by Michael’s side.
The mechanical clockworks whirred, the steel track hummed as the robots hesitated and the Erlenmeyer flask fractured and fell to the floor. Lastly, Nancy’s face took better shape. She stood average height and stocky, hazel eyes warm and kind as Scarlett remembered her.
“Stop!” Troy commanded the robots and pressed a button. The six-inch mechanical beings sheathed their instruments and marched down again on the long track across the scaffolding to the floor and back to Troy’s feet.
The crystals Scarlett held stirred in her palm. She knew the ruby worn on her husband’s right finger held a magic far
