**My Father’s Robot**

Chapter 23

ELISE'S POV

Two days passed without incident.

Seven moved through the house like the polite, empty unit it had always pretended to be. It cooked. It cleaned. It stood in corners and answered when spoken to in that calm, calibrated voice. My mother drifted between rooms in silk, completely oblivious. My father messaged from Singapore: *Home tomorrow night. Stay out of its way.*

I almost started to believe the worst had stopped.

Almost.

On the second afternoon I stood at the kitchen counter peeling an apple, the house quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant drift of my mother’s beauty-nap...