14
December 15, 2026
“Check,” Alainn said as she took Mr. Garbhan’s knight.
“Checkmate,” he said as his other knight came out of nowhere and took her queen.
“What?” She stared down at the board in outrage. “This is so, so not fair,” she called down the long length of the table to Mr. Garbhan.
They were again sitting in the dining room, in the same arrangement.
He got to be in the dark.
But her?
Spotlighted. Basically a shiny-ass beacon in the light.
“Did Mr. Murphy teach you the concept of what a sore loser is?” Mr. Garbhan’s voice sounded almost amused at her expense.
She glared down the table.
The answer to that was a big fat yes.
Her father had more than once explained what a sore loser was, or more specifically, her father explained it every single time he or Colby beat her—which was every single time they played anything.
Was it her fault she was born normal in a family of super-brains?
And now, she was facing another apparent super-brain.
This was the fifth game she’d lost in three days. But she couldn’t see any of his expressions while he could see all of hers—meaning it truly wasn’t fair.
They weren’t even playing on the same board; his was all the way across the table while hers was in front of her. The holograms were incredibly realistic and moved with touch, though.
“Supposedly, this is fair. But how do I know? You’re sitting in the shadows. For all I know, with a psychic computer tablet thingy.”
“Who taught you how to talk?” He was definitely amused. He might even be chuckling, if that’s what that sound was.
“Um . . . Alainn Murphy,” she said.
He laughed. “That explains a lot.”
Alainn sat up straight. “What does that explain?” she asked as expressionlessly as she could manage.
“Only that I’ve met Alainn Murphy. If she was your teacher, that explains why you speak the way you do. I am surprised you don’t cuss more.”
“I can cuss. I know cuss words in seven languages.”
A fact.
“I’m not surprised, but I would rather you not.” He still sounded like he was laughing.
“We could just share a board. Then I would know you’re not cheating,” she suggested.
“Obviously, you just weren’t created to be good at chess.”
Oh, hell no.
Alainn was fantastic at chess; she dominated everyone aside from her dad and brother—and apparently Mr. Garbhan.
“If you played me while I could look into your eyes, I’d beat you,” she said.
“That’s not true.”
She shrugged. “It could be true. Guess you would just have to try it to know.”
“Well . . .” He paused. “Definitely not tonight. It’s six fifty.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, oddly disappointed. Nodding, she stood. “Goodnight . . . Lorccan.”
Silently, she added to herself, Good-bye, Mr. Garbhan.
It was just a guess, but she had a feeling that when Rose swapped with her the next day, she’d arrange it to happen before their standing dinner and game-night plans.
“Goodnight, Jade,” he said.
Leaving the room, the sun and Alainn descended together. Stopping at the landing of the staircase, she stood, watching the city lights blink on.
Good-bye, beautiful sunset view from the tower.
Any second now, she knew Rosebud 03AF would tell her to go to her room. She lingered, but the voice didn’t come.
Alainn hoped that meant that Rosebud 03AF didn’t plan to play some other game with Alainn that would get her in trouble or expose her before she could escape tomorrow.
Yet, blood was still pumping quickly through her veins. She wasn’t quite ready to be locked away for the last time.
“Jade?”
Alainn turned to see Mr. Garbhan at the top of the stairs. He stood just inside the shadows in the dining room, where the lights had obviously gone out.
“Shelly cancelled. Would—would you like to play another game?” he asked.
She nodded, but said, “Could we do something else? Maybe a walk?” Alainn had only done three activities in the past couple days: hide in her room, eat dinner, play board games, repeat. Now that she knew who Voice truly was, Alainn was a hundred times more keen to avoid her. So far, Rosebud had left her alone if she wasn’t being summoned or something like that. That—along with the fact Alainn was now getting three square meals a day, the first two delivered to her room via a drawer opening out of the wall—meant she had a lot of unused energy.
“No,” he said, but he didn’t move away.
“Okay—do you want to maybe watch a movie—in the dark?” she asked.
He didn’t answer immediately, so she was about to tell him that she would play another game of chess when he said, “Not an entire movie.”
“That’s fine.”
He didn’t move forward; it took her a minute to realize why.
“I’ll—I will meet you down there?” she said it like a question but turned away, taking the stairs to her floor.
The room was prepared for them, its lights almost completely extinguished. She took a seat on one of the large, white, plush couches, sinking into it. Curling her feet under her, she settled the dress around her legs and waited for him to descend.
Mr. Garbhan came down almost a minute later, his footsteps pausing at the bottom of the stairs.
She forced herself not to look over, keeping her gaze ahead until he finally began moving again and rounded the couch.
“Hi,” she said.
He waited, seeming unsure, just beside the couch. “Hello.”
“Do you want to pick the movie?”
“You are welcome to.” His gaze remained forward, the scarred side of his face turned away.
“I don’t know many movies,” she lied.
Looking around, she realized the problem. She stood up, which was a little awkward because the couch really didn’t want to let her go.
Walking down the length of the couch, she sat on the farthest end.
He sat, too, the left side of his face facing her. He didn’t turn at all toward her as he asked, “Have you seen My Fair Lady?”
“No,” she lied.
His pupil went to the side of his eye, to her, though he kept his face pointed away. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Okay,” she said, giving him a grin.
They didn’t need to do or say anything—the movie just started playing. Familiar music rang out as the opening scene began.
After they watched the first couple of numbers, she turned to Mr. Garbhan. “Shelly is your girlfriend?”
He nodded, slowly.
“How long have you two been together?” she asked.
“Two years.”
“Wow. What does she do? I mean, where does she work?”
A small smile played across his lips. “Jade, watch the movie.”
“Will I meet her?”
“Eventually.” His smile widened. “Now watch the movie and not me, or I’m going to leave.”
She turned back to the movie but couldn’t help sneaking glances over at Lorccan.
After Audrey Hepburn finished the last lines of “I Could Have Danced All Night,” Lorccan turned to her. “Let’s finish this another time.”
The movie turned off before he’d even finished his words, plunging them into near darkness.
“If we must. But would you mind if we start it from the beginning of that song next time?”
A smile crept up the side of his face. “Yes, whatever you’d like. I’m guessing you enjoyed it, then?”
“That would be correct.” She nodded.
He stood, scooting out of the way. “Shelly almost never cancels, so we might have to wait some time before we finish it—you can finish it alone if you want to, of course.”
“I’ll wait,” she said, getting to her feet.
The moment she stood, Alainn realized he would be finishing the movie with the new Rosette model. The thought made her strangely sad, thinking of Lorccan sitting in his robotic house watching a movie with a robot.
Maybe it was this sad thought that possessed her, but as she passed Lorccan and said, “Goodnight,” Alainn reached out and lightly touched the back of his hand.
He inhaled sharply, stepping away. His other hand covered the hand she had touched, protectively.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” She reached toward him again.
He stepped back as his blue gaze snapped to hers. “No,” he whispered. Turning on his heel, Mr. Garbhan walked out of the room and up the stairs without another word.
She wandered to her room slowly, not exactly sure what had just happened, but feeling guilty regardless.