Chapter 3 · Continued
Learning
Seymour’s head snapped toward it.
Focus locked.
Cam moved the corner again, a little faster this time.
Seymour pounced, fully committed.
Cam lifted the corner slightly and drew it toward the edge of the mattress. Seymour chased it off the bed and onto the floor.
Cam released the blanket.
It fell flat and still.
He examined the bed.
No movement. No resistance.
“…Resolved.”
This time, Cam didn’t guess. He accessed a structured procedural guide.
Clear. Authoritative. Step-by-step.
OBJECTIVE: MAKE THE BED.
STEP ONE: REMOVE ALL ITEMS FROM THE SURFACE.
Cam picked up the pillows and placed them on the floor with even spacing between them.
STEP TWO: ALIGN THE BOTTOM SHEET.
He grasped the sheet, pulled it free, and lifted the mattress. Beginning with the corners, he tucked the fabric tightly beneath it and then continued along the edges.
Precise folds. Sharp angles.
Cam adjusted the tension, pulled it tighter, and then made one final correction.
“…Secured.”
STEP THREE: APPLY THE TOP SHEET.
He spread it evenly across the mattress and measured the overhang on both sides.
Cam adjusted it.
Then adjusted it again.
Symmetry achieved.
He folded the top edge down exactly six inches, paused to consider it, and changed it to seven.
“…Within acceptable range.”
STEP FOUR: BLANKET PLACEMENT.
Cam lifted the blanket, centered it, and smoothed away every visible wrinkle. Then he applied tension.
He pulled it firm and flat before tucking in the sides and folding exact, unyielding hospital corners.
Cam stepped back to inspect the transformation.
There was no softness. No casual imperfection.
The bed was rigid, structured, and disciplined.
STEP FIVE: PILLOW ALIGNMENT.
Cam retrieved the pillows and placed them at the head of the bed. Their edges were perfectly parallel, with identical spacing between them.
He adjusted one pillow by less than a centimeter.
“…Correct.”
Cam stood still.
Processing.
OBJECTIVE COMPLETE.
After a moment, he pressed both hands against the center of the bed to test it.
No movement.
No give.
Cam nodded once. “…Optimal.”
From the living room, Jane’s voice drifted faintly toward him.
“…No, I’m here. Just give me a minute—”
Cam turned slightly toward the sound, then looked back at the bed.
Still perfect.
Still controlled.
Still correct.
Footsteps approached.
Jane entered the room and stopped.
The bed looked as though it belonged in a military recruitment brochure—or at a crime scene where no one was permitted to wrinkle anything.
She walked closer and slowly pressed one hand against the blanket.
Nothing.
Jane pressed harder.
Still nothing.
She blinked. “…Cam.”