Page 108 of Made for You

Of course. The key to everything.

Annaleigh.

It’s amazing how the removal of these dampers has freed up my thinking. I feel like I’ve been wearing blinders my whole life.

“It was the Leighton Clause, wasn’t it?” I find myself saying. “The part of my coding that was going to trigger me to kill Josh.” I could almost laugh at the simplicity of it.

“Yes,” Eden says, obviously impressed. “No Harm is black-and-white. But the Leighton Clause is an ethical algorithm. There’s a lot more flexibility to ethical decisions. We got authorization to update it for you, since you’re the first Synth who can procreate. Basically, the new piece we wrote for your algorithm feeds off the intensity of your love for your baby. If Josh was abusive, you would truly feel as if Josh was personally attacking Annaleigh, and whether or not she was present, you’d kill him under the guise of defending one human from another.”

“But the first time it happened, I didn’t do anything,” I say.

“Right. We had to pass a lot of testing. We couldn’t have you react that first time.”

Or the second.

“It was supposed to be the third time, wasn’t it?” I say.

“Yes,” says Eden. “It also felt more, like, fair. To give Josh multiple chances.”

And yet...there was never a third time. Andy killed Josh before that happened.

But why? If one more instance of abuse would have made me kill Josh, why wouldn’t Andy just wait patiently? Why not let me be the murderer he designed me to be?

A very small doubt pricks at me, and I find that suddenly, I’m not entirely certain that Andy did kill Josh. I have the blue gel pen in Josh’s tent and a history of deceit. But Andy the liar, even Andy my designer who wanted to avenge his sister, isn’t the same as Andy personally murdering Josh, lopping off his arm, and disposing of his body.

If I’m going to exact justice, I have to be fucking certain I’m right, lest I become the very monster Andy made me to be.

When Eden is done, the kitchen is an oasis of light in the dark condo, and a glance at the microwave clock tells me it’s close to eight. Rising from the kitchen floor is a revelation. I never knew my body could feel this way. I wash the blood off in the bathroom sink and make a fresh ponytail. It’s strange to see myself looking so healthy, so beautiful. The bags under my eyes are gone, my cheeks are rosy, my gaze sharp. I’m the picture of strength, and I absolutely love it, because this is the mother Annaleigh deserves.

She doesn’t need me to be weak to love me. And for her, all I want to be is strong.

“What now?” says Eden when I come out of the bathroom.

“I find Andy,” I say.

Eden pulls a set of car keys from a hook by the door and tosses them to me. I catch them.

“He’s still on campus. Take his car.” She crosses her arms over her torso. “And, Julia—this has to be temporary, okay? Removing the dampers, I mean. It’s just to get you through tonight. Then they have to go back on. Okay?”

We look at each other. I don’t answer.

Then I step close to her and kiss her cheek. She’s soft and smells like pot. Earthy and alive. She really was a wonderful babysitter for Annaleigh, and we’ll both miss her.

I squeeze her arm and give her one last smile. “Goodbye, Eden.”

THEN

It’s an addiction, watching our season.

When I nurse Annaleigh at night, I sit in the rocker and watch it on my phone. When Josh is out, I watch it on my laptop while I prep a meal or clean a bathroom, keeping one ear out for his return so I can snap the screen closed. My time on The Proposal is the closest I’ll come to having a childhood. The innocence, the raw emotion, the discovery. I feel sorry for that Julia, hurtling toward pain, but there’s also a twisted fascination watching it all unfold like the glittering train wreck it is.

Sometimes Rita watches over my shoulder, from her picture on the mantel.

I have the dialogue memorized, and I find myself murmuring along. There are certain parts I always laugh at, like the outtakes after our Paris episode when they reveal that a motorcycle kept revving as we talked, forcing Josh to repeat himself over and over. Or the time a flock of birds attacked Cam on the beach.

Watching Josh with Cam is especially addictive. They are different together than Josh and me. More at ease. Maybe even more genuine. In retrospect, I look stiff. Reserved. All my interactions with Josh seem...tame. Did you notice that, Rita? I didn’t feel reserved at the time. I felt wild and open. Was I actually cold, or is it just in comparison to the heat of Camila? Reality seems more and more like a mist. Hard to see through. Impossible to hold.

Our wedding is the hardest to watch, because things were already headed downhill, although there’s literally no sign. Not a wilted expression, not a grumpy face, not a twitch of the mouth. It’s picture-perfect. I don’t watch that episode more than a few times. I stick with the earlier stuff, up to the proposal, though I faithfully skip the breakfast with Rita.

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