He started over and then added on, “A small black cube sat on the teacher’s desk, only the teacher never showed. Then, when we were talking about whether to just leave, the device lit up and said, ‘Do not tell anyone about the device. Do not leave the device unattended.’ Right then, the fire alarm sounded, and the device flashed a message that said, ‘Take me with you … or else.’ So Eden—more about her in a bit—grabbed it.” Dramatic pause. “That was two days ago, and things have only gotten stranger.”

This was fun.

He should write it down.

He got up and opened his laptop and opened a Google Doc and named it “Aizel,” then changed his mind and named it “The Device” and started to tell the whole story. Maybe he’d record it someday; maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe the process of writing it down would help him to somehow figure it out, to crack the case?

He looked over the paragraph where he described the whole incident of the device frying his phone. He’d written that the device was attempting to get even with him for trying to get rid of it.

He’d have to rethink that line. Because the device didn’t have emotions.

He wondered, though, if it could somehow detect his emotions? Like that he was maybe developing feelings for Eden. Was there something it could read in his voice? In his speech patterns when she was around? How would it, in theory, be able to figure it out? How would she? What cues would she pick up on?

For fun, he started jotting down an episode breakdown. There was a rhythm to these things, so episode one would leave off at a moment of high drama, maybe when Marwan’s phone got fried? Would that be enough material? Then episode two would go back and fill in some background about the four of them. It would be called “The Four.”

It seemed natural at some point in the story that one of them should break a rule and face some dire consequence greater than a fried phone. Maybe as deep in as episode eight or nine. But which one of them was it going to be?

Eden

EDEN

Eden was finally alone in her room with the device after having to do some quick thinking to explain things to her mother.

“Thank you,” she said to the device when she checked the time again, taking it out of her bag just under the hour mark.

For what?

“For not making a scene,” Eden said.

No good comes out of her knowing about me.

Her mother’s voice called up. “Eden?”

“Yeah?”

Her bedroom door opened. “Who are you talking to?”

“I was leaving a message for Anjali to apologize,” Eden lied.