When Lillian pushed open the study door, she was surprised to see the room had completely changed.
The infrared sensors were gone, and instead, the place was filled with children’s toys – a little play kitchen, a small tent, and even a miniature sofa chair. A white fluffy rug covered the floor, with two plush dolls lying on it.
Her heart softened. She picked up the dolls and placed them on the small sofa before heading toward the desk.
When she turned on the computer, a face recognition prompt appeared.
Lillian was about to give up when, unexpectedly, her face was recognized without any effort.
The computer powered on.
A mechanical voice spoke – modified to sound like Conrad’s.
“Hello, Lillian. This is your first time using me.”
Lillian froze and instinctively glanced around the room, half-expecting Conrad to be awake and messing with her.
“Are you looking for me?” the voice asked again.
Lillian turned back to the computer.
“Yes, I’m right in front of you, Lillian.”
“You… you’re a computer?”
“Technically speaking, I’m a robot. My name is Conrad. I’m designed to store my master’s important documents and monitor anyone entering the study. If it’s someone unfamiliar, I’ll alert the authorities – and in extreme situations, destroy all files.”
“… A robot?”
“Yes, I’m an intelligent robot computer developed by the Brown Family Group. My primary function is to protect my master’s files.”
Lillian’s curiosity grew. “Then how do you know who I am?”
“My programming tells me. My memory files contain your information – you are Lillian, the woman Conrad loves most, Jasmine’s mother… the three of you are a happy family.”
Lillian sat still, staring at the computer in a daze. “Who told you all that?”
“My master.”
“Besides all that… how do I log into my email?”
A login screen popped up.
“Please enter your username and password. I will ensure your security throughout the process.”
“Do you talk to Conrad like this when he’s online too?”
“No, my default setting is to remain silent… but it’s different when I’m speaking to you, Lillian.”
Lillian chuckled. “What’s different?”
“Because Conrad loves Lillian. So when I see you, I can’t hold back my enthusiasm. I really love you. I want to show you everything I can do – my efficiency has already reached its peak!”
“… I’d say your programming is just cheesy.”
“No… it’s because I love you.”
Lillian paused with her fingers on the keyboard. “Are you going to save my password for Conrad?”
“No, because whatever you say, I’ll follow. Because Conrad loves Lillian… so I love you too.”
Lillian had no idea how this thing managed to talk like that.
“Well, don’t save it.”
“Understood.”
She opened her email and clicked on a script she hadn’t finished reading.
“Would you like me to summarize the story for you?”
“You can do that?”
“I can analyze it in one second. Shall I begin?”
“Sure.”
Lillian’s mouse slipped, accidentally opening a heart-shaped icon on the screen.
What popped up was her old Twitter profile.
She stared at the last post – her finger hovered over it for a long time without clicking.
[Mr. Conrad is getting engaged. Miss Dais is outstanding and beautiful, a perfect match for him. The day has finally come. In the end, I still have to return to that dark and endless life. I know these past three years were stolen time, and it’s all supposed to end now. Please, allow me to love you one last time before midnight tonight. Goodbye, Mr. Conrad. I won’t love you anymore. It’s time to let go.]
The feelings and thoughts she’d had when writing those words… they felt so distant now.
That account had barely any followers, yet every single post had comments.
Curious, Lillian clicked to see.
Mr. Conrad: [No, the engagement is just a temporary move – for power, for the White family’s core technology. I never intended to marry anyone else. The person I chose, the one I planned my future with – from beginning to end, the only one I wanted to be part of it – is you. Will you come back, Lillian?]
Mr. Conrad: [Today Jasmine said ‘Mama.’ But she was calling out to the air… She doesn’t know who her mother is. Lillian, will you come back?]
Mr. Conrad: [I think I’m seeing things again… I thought I saw you sitting beside Jasmine. I reached out, but there was nothing. When I realized it wasn’t real, Jasmine grabbed my hand and smiled at me. I felt awful… but I still had to smile back. I have to make everyone believe I’m okay. Lillian, will you come back?]
Mr. Conrad: [The little goldfish at Taylor Mansion died… Another thing that reminded me of you is gone. I hate this world – without you, every day feels endless. Lillian, will you come back?]
…
There were countless posts like that – endless pleas for her to return.
It was like he’d treated her Twitter account as his diary, leaving messages year after year.
One year’s worth.
Then he came back on the same date the following year.
Five years.
For five whole years, he had written so many messages.
By the time Lillian realized it, her chin was already wet with tears.
She wiped her face, and the computer suddenly reminded her:
“There are tissues in the drawer.”
Lillian opened the drawer – but inside, she found several small pill bottles.
She picked one up.
Clozapine… Risperidone…
“What are these for?”
The mechanical voice – mimicking Conrad’s – answered, sounding almost like he was speaking himself.
She couldn’t fully process the words, but one line stuck in her mind:
“… commonly used for sedation and sleep… effective in treating persistent suicidal or self-harming behavior in schizophrenia… stabilizing and calming manic episodes…”
The descriptions for each medication were clear – painfully clear – each one targeting something specific.
Lillian’s eyes widened. “Who’s taking these?”
“My master.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s sick. He’s sick because of you.”
Lillian clutched the pill bottles tightly, her mind racing with memories – the scars crisscrossing his arms, the old wounds on his ankles that looked like they’d been rubbed raw by chains, the things he’d written on Twitter… the words about struggling to breathe… about feeling like he couldn’t go on.
“How long… has he been like this?”
“Since I was created. But lately, he hasn’t been taking the medication.”
“Why?”
“That day, he was really happy. I couldn’t help but ask him why… He told me – ‘Because Lillian came back.'”
Lillian didn’t know how long she’d been sitting in front of the computer.
Five years’ worth of Twitter posts – rambling day-to-day thoughts – didn’t quite sound like Conrad, yet somehow, they did.
The familiar impatience in his words, his constant affection and favoritism toward Jasmine, and even trivial details – like how many times he’d argued with George that day – were all written down.
Line by line, Lillian kept reading. Without realizing it, she’d been at it for a long time.
When the study door suddenly swung open, Lillian jolted. For a moment, she didn’t react. Then she saw Conrad standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants. He stood there silently for a while.
“You’re awake?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
Lillian logged out of her account and closed the window. “Are you feeling better?”
Still no response – he just stood there.
At first, Lillian thought he was angry again.
“What now?” she asked.
“Conrad, if you’re not going to talk, I’m leaving.”
That seemed to stir something in him. His head moved stiffly, and then, like a machine on autopilot, he shuffled to the sofa area, picked up a stuffed toy, placed it back in its original spot, and then walked past her.
Lillian’s gaze followed him the whole time.
His eyes… they seemed unfocused.
Sensing that something was off, she quietly followed him. “Conrad, what’s wrong?”
But he still didn’t respond. He moved robotically to the window, wiped down a picture frame, and then walked to the desk.
When he noticed the mouse had been moved, his brow seemed to furrow slightly.
Lillian stepped closer and waved her hand in front of his face.
Conrad’s eyes shifted slightly in her direction – but that was it.
“Are you sleepwalking?”
“Can you hear me?”
Lillian softened her voice, afraid to touch him.
Something was clearly wrong.
In those three years before, he’d never acted like this.
And in the five years since… aside from those Twitter posts, what else had happened?
Conrad stubbornly placed the mouse back in its original spot, then opened a drawer, poured out two pills, swallowed them directly, and walked toward the back wall.
He pushed open a hidden door.
Lillian hadn’t known this study had a secret room.