Pretend to Want Me
"Let me show you our science fiction section for younger readers. There's a new series that just came out that might be perfect..."
Thirty minutes and several hundred dollars later, I left with a stack of books, including a signed first edition of "Starstruck," which the clerk assured me was popular with "smart, space-loving kids." I also had a bagful of advanced puzzles from the hobby shop next door.
As I loaded my purchases into the car, I felt strangely satisfied. This wasn't part of the business plan, wasn't necessary for our charade to succeed. But it felt right.
Few hours later, my phone had buzzed with a text from Ava:
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