The flowers had all died. In the weeks since Jen’s funeral, one by one they had wilted and withered, scattering dried petals across the sideboard. Harry couldn’t bear to clear them away, to move on from the loss of the woman he loved.
Zoe – Zero Operator Effort – was Frank’s own creation. A decade ahead of anything on the market, she had integrated control of everything in the house. From the moment he came home in the evening to the moment he left again the next day, he didn’t have to lift a finger.
Jessica was glad about her private hospital room. It was bad enough lying here for weeks on end, waiting for flesh to regrow and bones to knit back together. Bad enough that the accident would leave her scarred forever.