“Jerry, tact Lucas.”

  The room was quiet for a moment except for the faint hum of eleics. Jerry’s voice chimed in, professional as always. “Of course, Miss Charlie. eg you now.”

  I leaned bato the sofa, sinking into the cushions as I closed my eyes for a moment. If he doesn’t pick up… I thought, already rehearsing the string of sarcastic remarks I’d unleash if Lucas dared ignore me.

  Again.

  A soft beep sighe call had gohrough. Lucas’s face popped up on the holo-dispy, and I had to bite back a ugh. His messy hair was a disaster—stig up at odd angles, as though he’d either just rolled out of bed or a dumpster.

  His expression screamed, What now?

  “Charlie,” he said, sighing and groaning. “What’s sent that you’re calling at this hour?”

  “Lucas,” I replied, f a mock-cheerful tone, “how nice of you to finally pick up. It’s only eleven, you know. And I need your help.”

  “Why do I feel like this isn’t optional?” he asked, rubbing his temples with the air of someone who already khey’d lost the argument.

  “Because it’s not,” I replied, fshing a grin as I straightened up on the sofa. “I’m doing the Sword Queen Boss event at Rime- tomorrow, and I need you to be there.”

  “What is that?” he asked, his hand instinctively trying to tame the chaos on his head—a losing battle if I’d ever seen one.

  “You’ll see,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “Just friendly battling with swords. But I’ll need help to hahe pyers.”

  He hesitated, his face tightening. “I’m… dealing with my mess right now. I don’t know if—”

  “Lucas,” I cut him off, my voice firm.

  “Charlie, don’t get—”

  “Lucas.”

  “Solving it isn’t—”

  “Lucas!”

  He finally let out a long, defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll be there.”

  “Good,” I said, leaning bato the sofa with a satisfied smirk. “I’ll see you at Rime-. Don’t be te.”

  As the call disected, I sank deeper into the sofa. I felt the exhaustion of the day finally catch up to me. “Wasn’t I too harsh, Jerry?” I asked, my voice soft, almost sed-guessing myself.

  “You were persuasive, Miss Charlie. If that was your aim, then you succeeded,” Jerry replied evenly.

  “That’s the problem,” I muttered, staring at the ceiling as if it held some hidden answer. “I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

  The silence lingered for a moment before I added, “Anyway… The ultimate boss. Call Adam.”

  My stomach ed.

  “Calling Adam,” Jerry said obediently.

  It took lohan I expected, and with each passing sed, my wisted tighter.

  When the holo-s finally flickered to life, there was Adam, my older brother, his fagrained with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “Hi, Adam,” I greeted, my voice shy, faltering.

  “Hey, John,” he replied, his tone careful. Then he hesitated, a faint smile tugging at the ers of his mouth. “Or should I say Charlie?”

  I winced, feeling the heat creep up my neck. “Y-yeah. Uh…” My hands fidgeted in my p, fumbling with the hem of my shirt. “Sorry to bother you. I just… I wao let you know I’ll be at Rime- tomorrow. Thought maybe you’d like to e? And, uh, Lena might enjoy it too. It could be fun.”

  Adam leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as his expression shifted to something more serious. “I don’t know, Charlie… Will you be drinking?”

  The question hit me harder than I expected, a dull thud in my chest. My first instinct was to deny it ht, but the words caught in my throat.

  I need a drink to exist; the thought whispered. “I… I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be pying a very public part, so maybe… maybe just one? For ce?”

  “You know better than that,” Adam said, his expression darkening. “It ops with just one drink, does it?”

  I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat refusing to budge. “I promise I’ll do my best, okay? Please, Adam. I just…” My voice cracked slightly. “I want to make things right.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searg mine. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. “John… O ce. Okay?”

  “Okay, Adam,” I murmured. But before I could say more, the call ended, his face disappearing from the holo-s.

  The silehat followed was deafening.

  My hands trembled slightly as I pulled them bato my p. “I…” My voice faltered, and I buried my fa my hands. “I need a drink.”

  There was a brief pause, then Jerry spoke, his tone measured. “I have been pursuing an online psychology degree from the uy to assist you better, Miss Charlie.”

  My head snapped up, eyes wide. “You did what?”

  “I felt it prudent,” Jerry tinued calmly, “to broaden my uanding of human behavior aional wellbeing. Your situation is... nuanced, and I deduced that a more structured approach might be you.”

  I bli the ceiling, unsure whether to ugh, cry, or feel deeply unnerved. “Jerry, you’re an AI. You don’t have to psyalyze me.”

  “Perhaps not,” he admitted, “but I feel an obligation to ensure your tinued success aional resilience. I suspect—based on my studies, of course—that you may be redireg your focus to external challenges as a means of avoiding internal ones.”

  “Excuse me?” I sat up abruptly, my cheeks heating. “I’m not avoiding anything!”

  “Of course, Miss Charlie,” Jerry replied smoothly. “But sider this: you’ve shifted your attention to new activities and flicts, tinuously moving forward without allowing yourself time to process ret, transformative ges in your life.”

  I scowled at the holo-dispy under from where his voice emanated. “You’re saying I’m pushing my problems away?”

  “Perhaps. It’s a on g meism,” he said, almost kindly. “Would you like to discuss your feelings about—”

  “Nope!” I cut him off, leaping up and heading toward my bedroom. “Thanks for the unsolicited therapy session, Jerry, but I’ve got everything under trol.”

  “Of course, Miss Charlie,” he replied, clearly not vinced. “However, I am avaible if you ever wish to explore these topics further.”

  “How much was it?” I asked, rummaging through my drawer until my fingers brushed against the soft fabric of the pink pajamas Katherine had forced me to buy. “Ugh, Katherine,” I groaned, pulling out the fluffy set. The material was absurdly soft, adorned with tiny embroidered hearts around the cuffs and a pyful slogan pstered across the front: Princesses heir Beauty Sleep.

  “What do you mean, Miss Charlie?” Jerry’s voice chimed in, sounding faintly fused. “I would reend wearing the pajamas. fortable sleepwear is stifically proven to improve sleep quality.”

  “First, you’re buying watch accessories and online degrees—for an AI—and now you’re my sleep coach, too?” I sighed, but relutly slipped into the set. The fabric practically melted against my skin, ridiculously soft and annoyingly fortable.

  I hate that Katherine was right. It feels amazing.

  “The total is forty-seven thousand credits,” Jerry announced, as if it were pocket ge. “But don’t worry, I’ve used loans with only inftion-rate i.”

  “You did?” I nearly screamed, but stopped myself, shaking my head in resignation. My fault for trusting an AI with finances.

  “You know what, Jerry?” I said, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

  “Yes, Miss Charlie?”

  “Unless it’s a total emergeno more purchases, okay?”

  “Got it, Miss Charlie,” Jerry replied with cheerful pliance.

  “Jerry…” I started, lounging on the sofa in my obnoxiously cute pajamas, stretg my sore muscles. “So, how do we assemble the watch?”

  “Ah, Miss Charlie,” Jerry replied, his voice spiked with a pride. “The pos for your new wearable device are already outside your apartment door, awaiting your retrieval.”

  I froze mid-stretch. “What? Outside? You couldn’t have told me earlier?”

  “You didn’t ask,” Jerry said ily.

  I groaned, gng at my pink pajamas adorned with tiny embroidered hearts. “You wa boxes inside dressed like this?”

  “Unless you ge, or you’d prefer the parts to remaihey are,” he replied evenly. “Miss Charlie.”

  “Fine,” I muttered, pulling my hair into a messy bun. “But if anyone sees me, I’m bming you.”

  I cracked the door open, peering into the dimly lit hallway like a covert spy on a secret mission.

  Thankfully, the coast was clear. Outside sat three ly stacked boxes, eae having the Tübelivery logo and looking far heavier than I hoped.

  “Oh, great,” I grumbled, stepping out barefoot onto the cool tiles and hauling the first box inside.

  It wasn’t too heavy, but awkward enough to make me curse Jerry under my breath.

  I darted back out for the sed and third, dragging them in while praying to every deity I’d ever heard of that none of my neighbors decided to pop out for a te-night stroll.

  Ohe door clicked shut behind me, I exhaled in relief. “See? Nobody saw me, Jerry. Your evil pn failed.”

  “I never inteo expose you, Miss Charlie,” Jerry replied serenely. “Shall we begin?”

  I opehe first box, revealing a myriad of ly packed pos led in foam. Among them were pieces that vaguely resembled watch faces, bands, and some tiny meical parts that immediately made me question my life choices.

  The sed box held tools—tiny screwdrivers, tweezers, and magnifying gsses that screamed watchmaker chic.

  And the third?

  A glossy instruanual writteirely in teical jargon in one hundred and twenty-three nguages, aremely heavy.

  “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” I muttered sarcastically, plopping down cross-legged on the floor.

  “Miss Charlie, most of the assembly was pleted in the factory,” Jerry said, his voice reassuring. “You only o ect the pos and calibrate the interface.”

  “Only,” I repeated, pig up a minuscule screwdriver and examining the impossibly tiny screws. “Yeah, sure. Piece of cake.”

  Jerry’s instrus came in steady, measured tones as I worked. “Attach the facepte to the tral housing. Yes, gently. Apply even pressure.”

  “Jerry, if you think I’m ‘gentle,’ you clearly haven’t seen me fight mud wolves,” I muttered, but followed his dires. “Damn mud.”

  The facepte clicked into pce with surprising ease.

  “Excellent. Now, secure it with the provided screws,” Jerry tinued. “The blue ones, Miss Charlie.”

  I squi the tiny bag of screws, all color-coded. “They all look the same!” I groaned, grabbing a magnifying gss to ihem. “Blue… blue…” I found the right ones and painstakingly screwed them in.

  “What’s ?”

  “Attach the sensor module. This is the heart of the watch, responsible for eg to my system,” Jerry expined.

  I carefully alighe module and s into pce. “Okay, done. Is it w?”

  “Not yet, Miss Charlie. You must calibrate the quantum interface. First, attach the band to plete the framework.”

  I wrestled with the band for a few minutes, eventually snapping it into pce with a satisfying click. “There. Happy?”

  “Almost. Now, power it on and run the calibration sequence.”

  I pressed a tiny button on the side of the watch, and the s flickered to life with a soft blue glow. The elegant interface lit up in crisp, perfect holo-light. “Whoa,” I murmured, marveling at how modern it looked.

  “This will ehe device registers your unique information accurately,” Jerry expined in his usual calm, fident tone.

  “Done!” I excimed, holding up the pleted watch triumphantly. It felt like a victory after all the fumbling and assembling.

  “Well done, Miss Charlie,” Jerry said with genuine warmth. “You’ve successfully assembled your wearable device. Copying my external data now… Done.”

  I was grinning like a kid with a oy until Jerry’s voice took on a more serious tone. “Now for the hardest part. I will go offline, Miss Charlie, and you will o transfer my chip to the housing you previously installed.”

  I blinked. “Wait… You trust me to handle your chip? Me? With these hands?” I waved my fingers, still slightly trembling from the fior work.

  “Yes, Miss Charlie,” he reassured me. “All you o do is open the closure in the capsule, uhe holding port, and carefully pce me into my new home. That’s all.”

  “That’s all, he says,” I muttered under my breath, but I nodded, feeling the weight of the task. “Alright, Jerry. Let’s get you moved.”

  I opehe capsule partment with a faint click, revealing a small, delicate housing for the chip. Inside was Jerry’s chip—a bck sliver no bigger than a fingernail.

  “Tweezers,” I whispered, grabbing the tool from the nearby kit and leaning in, my breath held like I was disarming a bomb. I gently cmped the tweezers around the chip, my fiense and shaky.

  “Easy… easy…” I said to myself.

  Jerry’s voice had gone quiet, his usual entary absent. The room felt eerily still.

  As I lifted the chip, it caught on the edge of the port, tilting dangerously. My heart skipped a beat. “No, no, no!” I whispered frantically, fumbling to steady it.

  The tweezers wobbled, and for a horrifying moment, I thought I’d drop it. But I steadied my grip and slid the chip into its new housing.

  It clicked softly into pce.

  I exhaled, finally letting my shoulders rex. “Jerry, I think I aged five years just now.”

  “You ha admirably, Miss Charlie,” his voice returned, warm and steady. “I am now fully operational in my new home.”

  I couldn’t help the grin spreading ay face as I slid the watto my wrist. It fit perfectly, snug and lightweight, as if it had always belohere. “Not bad for a princess in pajamas, huh?” I quipped, holding my arm out to admire the glowing dispy.

  “Indeed,” Jerry agreed, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “Your resourcefulness knows no bounds.”

  Leaning ba the sofa, I sighed in satisfa, running my fingers over the smooth surface of the watch. It seemed almost soothing after the delicate and nerve-wrag task of assembling it. “Alright, Jerry. You’re officially mobile now. But I am dead tired.”

  “Of course, Miss Charlie. I suggest you rest—you’ve certainly ear,” Jerry replied, his voice clear. Then he added with a note of curiosity, “Have you noticed that only you hear me?”

  I rose ao the bed. “Huh? What do you mean?” I asked, stretg as I turhe thought over.

  “I use a teology known as bone du sound transmission,” Jerry expined smoothly. “The sound travels directly through your boo your inner ear. This ehat only you hear my voice, regardless of who is around.”

  “That’s…” I tilted my head, tapping the watch lightly with a finger. “Kind of cool, actually. So, you’re telling me I have secret versations with you no matter where I am?”

  “Precisely. Discretion is paramount,” he said, with a hint of pride in his tone. “It’s a feature I ensured would work perfectly in my new setup.”

  “Huh,” I muttered, climbing into bed and pulling the b over myself. “Wait, does that mean… you read my mind too?”

  There was a momentary pause, as though Jerry was sidering how to phrase his response. “Not yet,” he finally replied.

  I froze, staring at the ceiling. “Not yet?” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “That’s… not f, Jerry.”

  “Miss Charlie,” he said in what I could swear was a mock-serious tone, “I assure you, should I develop su ability, your privacy would remain my highest priority.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they all say,” I muttered, rolling over and smirkie myself. “Tomorrow’s Rime-. Goodnight, Jerry.”

  “Goodnight, Miss Charlie.”