Page 103 of Override

I've been called worse. But the answer to your question is yes.

The texts fly back and forth like we are getting to know each other.

Wait…I absolutely do not want that.

Do I?

The apartment suddenly feels too quiet again. I stare at the message. Then at the laptop sitting on the coffee table. Then back at the message.

Absolutely not. That would be insane.

I last almost seven seconds. The laptop is open before I finish the thought. The Gallagher feeds flicker to life across the screen. I immediately find her. Not because I'm looking for her. Because my brain apparently knows exactly where she spends her mornings now.

Which is another thing I should probably discuss with a professional.

Maeve sits curled into a chair on the balcony with her coffee beside her. She's smiling. Actually smiling. The sight settles something restless inside my chest.

My phone vibrates again.

Maeve:

That answer took longer than I was expecting.

I huff out a laugh.

Me:

I'm choosing to believe that's because you're happy with the answer and not because you're interrogating me.

Three dots appear. Disappear.

Maeve:

I'm absolutely interrogating you.

A laugh escapes me. The sound feels strange in my empty apartment. My thumbs hover over the screen for a second before I type again.

Me:

How was your father?

The response takes longer this time. Long enough that I glance toward the camera feed. She's looking down at her phone. Not smiling now. Just staring. Thinking maybe? Finally she answers me.

Maeve:

Good.

A second message follows.

Maeve:

Too good.

My brow furrows. Then another text comes through.

Maeve:

It made leaving harder.