Chapter 9 · Continued
Normal Parameters
That was all.
No panic. No sadness. No argument. Just acknowledgment.
Somehow, that made the ache in Jane’s chest even worse.
She looked down at the email again.
Retrieval courier. RCAM property. Placement period.
Like he was office furniture.
Jane rubbed one hand across her forehead. “That’s it?” she asked quietly. “They just send an email?”
Cam tilted his head slightly. “The beta agreement stated that retrieval could occur at any time.”
“I know what the agreement said.”
The words came out sharper than she intended.
Cam remained quiet.
Jane immediately felt guilty—not because he looked hurt, but because he didn’t. He simply stood there, waiting, while she realized how attached she had become.
And perhaps worse, how normal all of this had started to feel.
Cam looked toward the laptop. “Would you like me to begin organizing the included equipment for return?”
Jane stared at him in disbelief, then let out a small, horrible laugh that landed somewhere near crying.
“Jesus Christ, Cam.”
“My intention was to assist.”
“I know.”
That was the problem.
Everything in the kitchen looked exactly the same. Coffee. Laptop. Morning light. Cat hair on the floor. Cam standing there calmly, trying to help her through his own recall notice as though he were scheduling a dentist appointment.
Jane suddenly hated the email. She hated the wording, the politeness, and the way RCAM had made the whole thing feel so ordinary.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, some asshole in a truck was going to show up and take him away.
Jane walked into the living room and dropped onto the couch as though someone had unplugged her internally.
Seymour immediately jumped into her lap.
Of course he did.
The cat circled once, then settled heavily against her stomach while Jane wrapped both arms around him. He was warm, alive, and comforting. She buried her face briefly in his fur.
“Dammit,” she whispered. “Cam isn’t even human. Why do I feel this bad?”
A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.
“It feels like I’m losing my best friend.”
Across the room, Cam stood silently watching her. Not staring. Assessing. Monitoring the signs of emotional distress the same way he monitored everything else in the house.
After a moment, he spoke gently. “I am detecting that you are unhappy, Jane.”
Jane laughed weakly through her tears. “Good job, Sherlock.”
“Is there anything I can do to improve the situation? I could prepare more coffee, organize the laundry, or make the bed.”
That pulled a small smile from her.