SOFIA
I started paying attention to the people.
Not the cameras, not the locks, but the living shadows that kept the machine running. They were everywhere, yet they occupied no space. You didn’t hear them approach; you didn’t notice them depart. Things simply occurred. Food appeared. Surfaces reset themselves. The house breathed through them, silent and invisible.
It wasn't just efficiency. It was a practiced, clinical distance. I decided to see where that distance ended.
Clara was the obvious starting point. She was the anchor of my restraint, always within reach but never close. I found her in the gallery, her focus fixed on a tablet.
“Clara.”
She didn't startle. She simply looked up, her expression a familiar, polished void. “Yes?”
“How long have you worked here?”
“A while.” The
