Chapter Four
1234 Words
Dr. Victor’s phone rang, and I could hear Director Swift’s voice through the speaker.
“The robot exceeded my expectations. Impressive work, Dr. Victor. I applaud you.”
My stomach tightened. Robot; impressive. He was talking about me.
“I’d like to postpone making a decision for a month,” Director Swift continued. “I’d love to train the robot. You said it takes one month, right?”
“That’s not possible,” Dr. Victor argued. “We’re moving. The rental agreement is over—we need a new place.”
“It will be possible after a week,” Dr. Victor tried to compromise.
“I can keep Aji–3 at my house,” Swift offered, smugness dripping from his voice.
“No. It must be charged for twelve hours a day. Charging is only possible in the lab.”
Swift chuckled. “Then I’ll send someone to pick T–3 up daily.”
“It will break if someone else handles it,” Victor shot back.
I stayed silent, but inside, my heart was racing. They’re fighting over me like property. Do they even realize I’m listening? Do they even care?
Later that day, I sat with Lily, my best friend, showing her the heart-shaped bulb I’d poured my entire soul—and savings—into. “I submitted the proposal. If they accept it, maybe I’ll finally breathe again.”
Then the news flashed across the screen: The program has been canceled. All youth proposals terminated effective immediately.
The world blurred. My lungs forgot how to work.
“—I don’t believe this,” I whispered, heat rising to my face. “All the money, the hours, the hope… gone.”
“June…” Lily’s voice was soft, but useless. Nothing could soothe the fire clawing through me.
We stormed to the company’s office the next morning. At the gate, I froze. Director Swift was in his car right there though not looking toward my direction.
Of course. Of all people, it had to be him. The man who called me a thief, a p*****t’s victim, a nobody… he’s the boss of the company that just crushed my dream.
My throat locked. I couldn’t tell him about the light. Couldn’t even breathe near him. So Lily and I left, my hands shaking, my invention burning in my chest like ashes.
Back home, anger ate through me. I paced my room, shouting at no one.
“I just can’t believe it. How can life be this twisted? Beaten up, accused of theft, harassed—and now that psycho is the boss?”
I called Lily, my voice trembling. “I saved his life, Lily. Doesn’t that mean he owes me?”
“That was the robot, not you,” she said bluntly.
I clenched my jaw. “This must be how the Little Mermaid felt. To save someone… and never be able to say it.”
“June!” My brother’s voice roared from outside my door.
I opened it reluctantly. “What now? I already repaid the money.”
“Where did you get it?” Justin demanded.
“I worked, Legally; Part-time.”
He grabbed my shoulders. “Where could you get ten thousand dollars in a day? Did you go to a loan shark? Or…” his voice cracked with fury, “….did you sell another organ?”
I recoiled. “Stop it! Just stop!”
He barged into my room, his eyes landing on the heart-shaped lamp.
“Don’t touch it,” I begged.
He ignored me. His hand hovered, then—
Crash!
Glass shattered across the floor.
“My lamp!” My knees buckled as I fell beside the shards. “It’s broken…” My tears soaked the floor as I gathered the jagged pieces of my dream.
I couldn’t stay another second in that house. I stuffed my things into a bag.
Mandy, my sister-in-law, reached for me. “June, wait. He didn’t mean it—”
“Don’t,” I whispered, pulling away. “I’ll stay at Lily’s. I can’t even look at Justin right now.”
That night, I dragged my suitcase down a lonely road. Ahead, a little girl squealed with laughter as her father spun her in circles under a streetlight.
My chest ached. I remembered when my own dad used to lift me like that—before he died. My legs gave out. I buried my face into my bag and sobbed until I couldn’t breathe.
The next morning, a text buzzed my phone. We are on your side.
Then another message: Don’t be angry. Could you be our robot for just a few more days? – Dr. Victor
I stared at it for a long time. My pride screamed No. But my stomach was empty, my future in ruins. And part of me wanted revenge—for everything Swift had done.
“I’ll do it,” I muttered, shoving the phone in my pocket.
When I arrived at Victor’s place, Dennis and Victor were mid-argument.
“If you treated her just a little kindly—” Dennis said.
“I know,” Victor snapped.
“I’ll work,” I interrupted, stepping into the room. Both men spun around.
“For free,” I added. Their shock was almost funny.
“What’s your reason?” Victor asked.
I swallowed. “Because the money feels like poison in my veins. I can’t keep it. Let me work it off.”
He softened. “So… you were worried about me.”
“Don’t get it twisted,” I said quickly. “I’ll do it under one condition.”
“Condition?”
“I need food and a place to stay.”
His jaw dropped. “What? We’re moving, June. We can’t—”
But it was too late. That evening, we moved straight into Director Swift’s house.
When Swift greeted me, his voice carried an unfamiliar warmth.
“Hi, T–3.”
“I love you, Master. What can I help you with?” I replied in my best robotic tone.
“I’d like to set a password. What will it be?”
“Sandwich,” he said without thinking.
“That word is prohibited. Choose another.”
“What did Sandwich ever do wrong?” I muttered, smiling faintly at the memory of picnics with my ex.
“Password set to Sandwich,” I added aloud.
Swift chuckled. “Finally.”
He stared at me, his voice softening. “You saved me yesterday.”
“If you want to say thank you, then say it,” I shot back.
His smile widened. “It was unexpected, but… I had fun, thanks to you.”
If you had fun, give me money, I thought bitterly, but bit my tongue.
“I’ll reward you,” he said, stepping closer.
Already? My pulse jumped.
He placed a hand against his chest. “Inside here… I’m making a private room. Don’t let anyone in. I’m going to train you.” His eyes burned into mine, intense and unblinking.
Then his fingers brushed my temple. “And you will store my information here. From now on, you follow no one but me.”
His gaze locked with mine, and for a second, I forgot to breathe.
But inside, my heart was screaming. What if he’s starting to suspect I’m not a robot at all?
- Writer
