Chapter 11: Two Orders

"Start at the beginning," I said.

It was Sunday morning, and we sat on the floor of the loft with our backs against the sofa.

The sofa was still shoved against the broken door.

Margot had pulled one of my sweaters over her head and was holding a mug of tea in both hands.

She looked like herself for the first time.

Tired, thin, with a black bob that needed cutting and grey eyes that wouldn't leave my face.

"Three months ago I went to Lumen," she said. "I'd never been inside a showroom in my life. I told myself it was for research."

"Was it?"

"No. I sat at the desk and the woman asked me who I wanted the companion to look like."

She stopped and drank some tea.

"I wrote your name."

I didn't move.

"It took two weeks to build. It came to the penthouse on a Thursday, in a crate. I opened it alone."

"Margot."

"It had your hands."

"Lumen copied them from a conference lecture you gave."

"I'd sat in that lecture hall two years ago watching your hands before I understood why."

"What did you do with it?"

"I talked to it."

I waited.

"Every night," she said. "For three months. I told it what I should have told you in the lobby."

"I told it about the box, and the money, and Rufus."

"I told it I was sorry in every way I could think of, until I ran out of ways."

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