Programmed the Quaterback Robot to Love
“With Flynn. Last night. I saw them. The way she looked at him. It didn’t seem like two people who just met a few weeks ago, it was as if she’s known him her whole life. Like they’ve got some secret.”
Tom’s eyes narrow. “Where?”
“Stadium,” I mutter. “They were alone, it was late and they were way too close.”
For a second, silence. Then, slowly, Tom straightens, his expression shifting from annoyance to calculation. His eyes glint under the harsh hallway lights, the way they always do when he smells blood in the water.
“Then we have to dig deeper,” he says.
I blink. “Dig what? His past is clean, Tom. I checked it myself when he was recruited on the very first day. Nothing shady. Nothing weird
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