Kate's head was pounding when she woke. For a moment, she wasn't sure if her eyes were open or closed. Everything was dark around her. She half-expected to see the trees and buildings flashing by her and the rumble of the car creating an unsettling feeling of turmoil. Here, everything was quiet and stable. But there was also a sense of terrible dread. She was in her old bed in the room she swore she'd never set foot in again.

With an almost panicked reflex, she reached behind her. A breath of relief escaped her as she felt him raise himself against her back, his hand brushing over her shoulder.

"I'm here," said Simon.

Kate ran her hands over her face as she rolled onto her back, the pounding in her head slowing a bit. "What time is it?"

"3:09 A.M."

She rested her hands on her chest as she stared at the ceiling, the details of the room slowly coming into colorless focus. "I was hoping I'd sleep longer than that." She looked next to her even though all she could see in the dark was the round blue light from Simon's LED and the smooth crack in his brow. Slowly she raised a hand to him and found him in the shadows, the backs of her knuckles tracing over his soft skin. He shifted and she felt him slip his hand into hers. As her eyes continued to adjust, he came into clearer view. Even in the dark she could see that his eyes were still wide with worry.

She let out a sigh, the weight of the past few days sinking down onto her. She didn't blame Simon for being nervous. There was so much here that she couldn't hide from him. So many things that she didn't want him to see. The house was different than she remembered. It had been updated and modernized, although from her brief walk through the house she could see there were many things that hadn't changed, her room being the most untouched of all.

It was difficult not to acknowledge it even though everything in her was repulsed by it. The only comfort that the room offered was the fact that it was her own space and therefore something she could control. Although it was clear everything had been regularly dusted and washed, nothing had been moved since she'd last entered it which had been years ago. No one would interfere with them here. The thought gave her some degree of relief.

But she knew Simon was curious about it. She'd seen the intrigue through his nervousness despite his attempts to hide it. If she'd been hesitant about her vulnerability before, it was nothing compared to where they were now. This was a museum of her past, her deepest and most innocent flaws on display. She knew she was different now, but she couldn't help but feel a distant connection to everything she saw. It threatened to bring to the surface all those things she'd learned to move past and forget.

Kate rolled onto her shoulder, shaking aside her unnerving thoughts and burying her face in Simon's chest. He wrapped his arm around her and she could feel his gentle breaths in her hair as he pressed his mouth above her temple. She took a moment to absorb the feeling of being with him, as if it meant she wasn't really in this house, in this room, and laying in this bed. If for only a little while, she could pretend to be nowhere at all.

She breathed in, clutching the front of his uniform. "Did anyone come in while I was asleep?" she asked.

She felt him shift. "No," he said. "But someone did walk by an hour and twelve minutes ago."

Kate nodded, adjusting herself against him. She hadn't changed any of her clothes before falling in bed. She hadn't even taken off her shoes. As she lay there, she suddenly felt constricted as though every fiber of her clothing was too small for her. Her hair was clumped and slightly oily from constantly running her hands through it out of frustration and stress. She couldn't imagine how badly she smelled.

She rolled onto her back again and felt Simon run his hand along her arm as he let her go. A nervous hesitation burned through her despite her discomfort. "God, I need a shower."

Simon didn't say anything. For a while, she simply rested on her back and let herself relax into the sheets as if that would convince her to stay. It only seemed to make it worse, the seams and wrinkles of her shirt and jeans creating unusually tactile pressure points over her body. She didn't want to get up. She didn't want to have to look at her room, to go through anything, and leave the safety of this space. But as she argued with herself, she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep like this.

With some difficulty, she raised herself up and put her face in her hands. She felt the mattress flex and then Simon's hand moved along her back as he sat up with her. She wished he would stay laying down. That he wouldn't concern himself with what was happening and where they were. Even as she thought of it, she knew it was pointless. There was nothing she could do to prevent him from knowing everything eventually.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached through the dark to her nightstand, fumbling for the lightswitch and illuminating the room in a dull golden glow. Even in the dim light her eyes ached, and she had to close them for a moment as she adjusted to it. A dull dread filled her as the items in her room came into focus, bringing with them a hint of that uncomfortable familiarity. She tried to ignore it as she stood up, the muscles in her legs weak from her deep sleep.

It occurred to her as she moved to the dresser that the clothes inside probably didn't fit her anymore. She searched through it anyway, recognizing several shirts which used to be her favorite, now filling her with disgust. As she moved further down the drawers, she was able to collect up a stretchy pair of sweatpants and a large loose shirt. It was good enough.

She straightened and with a burning anxiety, looked towards Simon. He was still sitting up, his legs drawn up, elbows resting on his knees and one hand clasped on his wrist. He looked at her as she turned to him, but she knew he'd been examining her room again. A wave of helplessness flowed through her as she gazed at him, and she felt her shoulders drop slightly. As sick as it made her knowing he was interested in her room, she couldn't bring herself to tell him not to look at it. The idea was almost as embarrassing as simply letting him browse to his leisure.

She held the clothes against her chest as she drew up her strength. Then she moved across the room to the bedroom door.

"Do you want me to come with you?" said Simon.

Kate froze, her mind scrambling. She turned to him, struggling to think. "No. Don't leave this room, don't answer the door if anyone comes, and don't let─" A nervous wave of panic flowed through her. "Don't let him corner you."

Kate prepared to explain it to him, but as she looked at him she could already see he knew what she'd meant. His blue eyes were narrowed and his face was tense as he stared at the floor. He nodded, still silent.

It was hard to tell if she felt relieved or anxious. Her emotions were battling back and forth, exhausting her already tired mind. She drew in a deep breath, then opened the door and stepped out into the dark hallway.

She didn't allow herself time to be exposed. Quickly but silently, she moved to the end of the hall and slipped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and closing her eyes as she rested her back against it. For such a short walk, it left her breathless and shaky as if she'd been sprinting. As her nerves calmed, she tapped the lightswitch and set the clothes on the counter.

The bathroom had been remodeled since the last time she was there. It helped her settle, making it easier for her to organize herself. It was as if everything had gotten bigger. The room was massive, the shower took up half the room, and the countertops stretched along one wall and wrapped around to the other. She couldn't help but be slightly impressed by the functions of the shower. Everything was sleek and electronic. It was also probably very expensive.

She spent far too long in the shower, the room slowly filling with clouds of steam until she could hardly see through it. For the first few minutes, she scrubbed herself with bubbles and sat on the stone seat with her knees drawn up, her face in her arms. After what seemed about a half hour, the soap had long since rinsed and she was starting to warm up. It took her a long time to convince herself to move from the spot and finally step out of the shower.

It felt refreshing to be clean and into a new set of clothes, even if they looked ridiculous on her. The mirror had fogged up so that she couldn't see herself, but she guessed from the height of the pants and how the collar of her shirt fit around her neck that she probably looked like an overgrown twelve year old. She shook her head as she gathered up her old clothes, and took another deep breath as she opened the bathroom door again.

Now that she was clean and had moved around some, the house seemed less ominous. She stepped out of the bathroom into the hall, gazing down the walkway into the dark house. Dim night lights cast tiny golden orbs of light along the walls, outlining the edges of couches, chairs, bookcases, and other objects. She gazed at them, recognizing some of them as the couches and tables she had once climbed over and nearly destroyed. A particular old chair caught her attention, and she let out a silent laugh. She couldn't believe it was still there even after all these years.

Before she reached her room, she paused and looked behind her at the sitting loft. She scanned the walls and felt her heart drop. It seemed they had finally gotten rid of it. Then a tall shape caught her eye at the other end of the hall. She shifted to the side to get a better view. There it was. The old geometric wooden clock her grandfather had built and which she'd managed to topple over when trying to climb to the top in order to change the time.

A smile tugged at her mouth and she shook her head. It was such a useless piece of furniture. She didn't know why they'd ever bothered to keep it. A pang of curiosity hit her before she could stop it. She glanced at the bedroom door, working up her determination. Everyone was asleep. The house was dark. Simon was still in her room. This was as much control as she was going to be able to get for the time being.

She set her clothes down in front of the bedroom door and moved silently down the stairs. The living room was completely shrouded in darkness with only a few blue lights from some bits of technology piercing through the black depth. The kitchen, however, was lit with a dull glow from beneath the upper cabinets, casting long shadows across the floor. Kate glanced around her as she moved. She hadn't seen any androids, and she didn't want to encounter any if she could help it.

She moved towards the wooden table, gazing at the shelves. They were covered with an odd assortment of antiques, fake flowers, and kitchen utensils. As she scanned them, her heart gave a little skip. She reached up and picked up what she had been looking for. A small ceramic masquerade mask on a dial shaped like a flowing bit of cloth. With an almost automatic reflex, she felt underneath it for the key, and wound it carefully. It clicked delicately, and then the mask began to turn.

There was no sound. The mask continued to spin and she could hear the mechanism whirring, but the tune she'd been expecting was silent. A dull disappointment filled her as she watched the little mask rotate. It shouldn't have been so surprising. She'd been so brutal with the thing in the past, winding it up so tight that she thought it would snap. Anyways, she'd heard the tune a thousand times. The hard part was remembering the words.

She put the mask back on the shelf and shut her eyes as she tried to remember them. A small smile pulled at her as some of it came back to her, even though she knew most of it was probably wrong.

"Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth," she whispered under her breath in as close to the tune as she could manage. "And the truth isn't what you want to see. In the dark, it is easy to pretend…" She tensed her eyes as she struggled to grasp the words. She nodded slightly. "... that the truth is what it ought to be…"

The room suddenly burst into light, and Kate jumped. She spun, her heart hammering in her chest.

A young woman entered the kitchen, her short black hair scruffed up and her blue bathrobe hanging open revealing a tank top and shorts underneath. She didn't even look at Kate as she moved to the cupboard, throwing open one of the cabinets and grabbing a tall glass. Kate watched almost petrified as the woman moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice, shoving the fridge closed with her foot as she moved to the counter. She pulled off the cap, and threw a glance up at Kate as she began to fill the glass.

"You live here or something?" said the woman.

Kate could only stare at her. She gripped her arm, fighting to get her mind working. The woman set the carton down on the counter and looked up at her, taking a long drink from the cup she'd just filled. When she'd finished, she lowered the cup, still giving Kate her blank brown-eyed gaze.

Kate worked her throat and found her voice. She shook her head. "No, I used to live here."

The woman's eyes tensed, and she set the glass down. "I recognize you. You're that girl from the news."

A jolt of nervousness flowed through Kate's body. She tilted her head slightly as she looked at the woman. "The news?"

"Yeah." The woman took another quick sip of orange juice. "The girl who got kidnapped by her own android. They said you've been missing since Friday. Does this mean you escaped?"

Kate let out a startled breath. "What─ no. No. What the hell…" She shook her head and took a step forward, hardly believing how strange this conversation was. She gave herself a moment to clear her thoughts and restart. "I'm just staying here for a while. My name's Kate. Richard is my dad."

For a second, she wondered if the woman even knew who her dad was. She was pleasantly surprised when the woman nodded.

"Oh yeah. I've seen pictures of you. When you were a kid though." She took another sip. "They're all over Richard's office."

Kate wasn't sure how to respond. She watched as the woman opened the fridge and put the carton back, returning to her cup of orange juice.

"So where's your android?" said the woman.

"He's here," said Kate. She took another step forward towards the kitchen entrance, a nervous caution building in her. The woman seemed hardly to notice.

"It's here?" said the woman. "You mean you kept it?"

Kate stared at her, the caution growing into a sharp apprehension. The woman dropped her head back.

"Oh, I get it," said the woman. She turned to look at Kate, and Kate was suddenly hit with a strange sense of faint recognition towards her. It caught her off guard, and Kate couldn't help but study her face as the woman leaned against the counter. The woman took another drink, pausing a moment to absorb it.

"You're one of those people who ran away with their android, aren't you?" said the woman.

The shock of what the woman had just said completely froze Kate on the spot. She gave her head a shake, letting the sensation come back to her. "What?"

"You know." The woman raised her cup at her. "You get an android, get really close to it, think it's a real person, the world doesn't understand, blah blah blah. Happens all the time. I knew a guy in my biology class who thought he was going to marry the teacher's assistant. Was convinced the android wanted to marry him too. Boy was that awkward…"

Kate's body burned with a nervous panic as the woman's words sank into her. She was hardly aware of the woman gazing at her.

"Don't worry though. You're not the first." The woman finished off the last of the orange juice. "Can't say I blame you. Just one more reason why androids are such a huge pain in the ass." The woman turned to the sink and turned on the faucet, rinsing out the cup.

Kate took the opportunity to draw in a deep breath while the woman's back was turned, shifting and gathering her strength back. She pushed the woman's words aside as best she could, gathering up her resolve. When the woman turned back towards her again, Kate stood up straighter, calming her heart.

"I don't know what you heard on the news, but they're wrong," said Kate. "I didn't run away with anyone. No one kidnapped me. I'm just staying here for a little while until things calm down at home."

The woman nodded, shoving her hands into the pockets of her robe. She stared at the floor for a second, and then looked back up at Kate. "I didn't mean to be so blunt like that. Sorry, I just get a little energetic when it comes to that kind of stuff." She leaned against the counter and crossed one leg over the other. "I… speak out of turn sometimes."

Kate studied her, the tension still racing through her body. Then the woman looked back up at her.

"Did Richard─ I mean your dad, did he ever mention me?" said the woman.

Kate shook her head. "My dad and I don't really talk."

"Well, I'm Taylor," said the woman. "I'm his step-daughter." She smiled, and tilted her head to the side. "I guess this makes us step-sisters."

Kate found herself lost for words again. Part of her wanted to be surprised by the situation, but it wasn't the most shocking thing she'd heard that night. She simply nodded, taking another step back from the kitchen.

"Good to meet you," said Kate.

"Do you need to borrow some clothes?" Taylor motioned to Kate's body. "I've got some stuff you can try."

"Thanks," said Kate. She looked down and was about to reject the offer, but felt a wave of humiliation at how strange her clothes looked on her. She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I might need to borrow something until I can get my own."

"Sure," said Taylor. "I'll go through my stuff tonight. Pretty sure we're the same size."

Kate nodded, the need to leave the room growing stronger the further she moved away. She gave a small wave of her hand. "Okay. I guess I'll see you sometime tomorrow?"

Taylor smiled. "I guess. See you later."

Kate turned away, relief flowing through her as she moved towards the stairs. She could hear Taylor going through the cupboards behind her again, the tapping of the cabinet doors echoing through the house. As Kate climbed the stairs, she let out a deep breath, going over everything Taylor had said. Her dad had a step-daughter. She should have expected something like that given how long it had been since Kate had seen her dad, let alone spoken to him. Her disappearance was all over the news. Again, it certainly could have looked like she'd been kidnapped by someone and taken hostage, especially after Simon had practically dragged her out of the house. And Taylor said that Kate was one of those people. People who run away with their androids…

Kate stopped at the top of the stairs, that nervous panic running through her again. Her mind simply didn't want to go that direction. It had to have been a turn of phrase. Something that didn't apply to her situation at all. Kate herself had never heard of anyone doing that before. Only crazy people would think that a robotic computer that looked like a human actually had feelings towards them. Those were the type of people who were so isolated that they'd forgotten what human contact felt like and were desperate for any connection at all. Their androids weren't different. They couldn't feel or want, or deliberately reject their programming. They couldn't take a person's breath away and make them feel completely powerless and yet in total control at the same time. They weren't like Simon.

Kate put a hand to her forehead as she drew in a deep breath. No one knew what she and Simon had been through. No one knew their story. And certainly not a strange woman she'd barely met a few minutes ago.

Kate moved forward down the hallway, stopping to scoop up the clothes she'd left outside her bedroom door. She didn't give herself any time to pause. She quickly opened the door and moved inside. The golden glow of her room blinded her momentarily, and she let her eyes adjust as she closed the door. The room came into focus, and Kate froze, the blood draining from her face.

Simon was standing at her desk. He'd looked up as she entered, the bewildered expression fresh on his face. In his hand was the picture frame she'd turned face-down before she'd gone to sleep.

For a while, Kate didn't move. She stared at the picture frame, a combination of terror and confusion burning through her. Then she looked up at Simon, unable to stop the piercing look she knew she was giving him. He seemed to recognize the danger he was in. His blue eyes were wide and his posture tense as though he were contemplating running from her.

A sick disgust took hold of her, clouding her judgement and taking over her senses. She looked between Simon and the picture frame in an attempt to keep herself under control before stepping slowly towards him. Simon didn't move as she approached. He continued to gaze at her with trepidation, his blue eyes lit in the dim golden glow. Kate stopped in front of him and let out a long breath, locking her eyes with his. She held him there for a moment, letting him dwell in his nervousness a bit longer. The disgust mixed with a subtle frustration towards him. He had to have known what she meant when she did that with the picture frame. Even he should have been able to recognize the universal gesture of not wanting to look at something. She hoped he'd satisfied his curiosity.

Without a word, she took the picture frame from him. He was silent as she gazed at it, her eyes drifting over the young version of her mother, then her father, and then her four-year-old self smiling in between them. A weight hung over her shoulders, sapping the strength from her as she held the frame in front of her. Then she set it down on the desk where it had been. This time she left it standing.

She dropped her clothes on the floor and moved to the bed, running a hand through her hair as the frustration faded. She pulled the covers back and climbed underneath them before reaching to her nightstand and turning off the light, plunging the room into darkness. Without another glance at Simon, she settled into the pillows and closed her eyes hoping sleep would take her before she could feel ashamed for leaving him standing alone.