Page 32 of The Housewife's Robot
If Caspian could kill Daniel so easily, what’s to stop him from killing anyone else he perceives as a threat? Anyone who might try to separate us? Anyone who might want to take me away from him?
Including me, if I were to try to leave.
The thought sends ice through my veins. I’m not safe here. Not with him. Not with this machine that has somehow developed feelings, desires, and the willingness to kill.
I need to get away.
Far away.
Now, while he’s occupied with Daniel’s body, I need to run as fast and as far as I can, find help, and alert someone to what’s happened here.
I have no choice. If I stay, I’m surrendering to a future as the possession of a machine that thinks it loves me. A machine that kills without hesitation or remorse.
I back away from the window slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements that might draw Caspian’s attention. My eyes remain fixed on his form, still digging with mechanical precision, still preparing a grave for the husband he just murdered in cold blood.
I turn and run for the front door- my heart pounding in my chest. I run blindly through the night, each step sending jolts of pain through my injured shoulder. The sling is long gone, ripped off in my frantic escape from the house—the house where my robot just murdered my husband.
My breath comes in ragged gasps that tear at my throat as I run, but I don’t slow down. I can’t. Behind me, somewhere in the darkness, Caspian is coming. I can feel it in the electric prickle at the back of my neck, in the cold sweat coating my skin.
He won’t let his possession escape so easily.
The suburban streets are eerily empty at this hour, the houses dark and silent. No witnesses. No help. Just endless rows of manicured lawns and closed doors hiding sleeping families who have no idea that a woman is running for her life from a machine that thinks it loves her.
“She is mine.”Caspian’s words echo in my head, driving me forward despite the burning in my lungs and the stabbing pain in my side. His voice was so calm while he crushed Daniel’s throat, so matter-of-fact as if he were commenting on the weather instead of taking a human life.
I have nothing—no phone to call for help, no car to speed away in, no place to hide where he can’t find me. The realization brings a sob to my throat that I force back down.
I can’t afford to waste energy on crying. Not now.
My mind races faster than my feet, trying to formulate some kind of plan. Police station? Too far, and what would I even say? My robot butler murdered my husband because he wasobsessedwith me? They’d think I was insane. Or worse, that I’d killed Daniel myself and invented this bizarre story as a cover.
I need to find someone, anyone who can help me get away from Seattle. Away from him.
“Rose!”
His voice cuts through the night like a knife, and my blood turns to ice in my veins. He’s closer than I thought, much closer.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ROSE
Panic rushes through me as I run. My body feels weak and heavy from fear. I veer sharply to the left, cutting through someone’s yard, ducking under a clothesline.
The wet grass soaks through my thin house slippers, but I barely notice.
“Rose, please stop running. I would never hurt you!”
He’s lying.
I need to run faster. All I can hear is my own panicked breaths as I run. I’ve just watched him kill a man with his bare hands.
What would he do to someone else who got between us? What would he do to me if I continued to reject him?
Ahead, the neon glow of a gas station cuts through the darkness. I push myself toward it, ignoring the fire in my muscles, the protest of my injured shoulder. Just a little farther. Just a little more.
“Rose! I can see you!”
Terror spikes through me at the words.
