It was almost 7 p.m. when Rena arrived home, a heavy sigh of exhaustion escaping her lips as she passed the front door. Removing her raincoat and boots, she rubbed her forehead at her headache, placing her wet umbrella in the basket. Today, and following months of intense negotiations, she had at last signed an important contract with the CEO of a leading specialty pharmaceutical German company. The business woman was pleased and proud to have reached such a great deal, the 5-year contract partnership opening their products to the European market.

This morning, she had arrived at the office a little before 7. Along with the other members of her company working on this negotiation, they had revised in detail all the terms of the contract, while waiting for the arrival of their foreign counterparts. Rena wished to put all chances on her side, refusing to let pass such an incredible opportunity. After a 4-hour meeting with the German representatives, their brand-new collaboration had been formally sealed with a long-awaited signature.

Rena progressed forward in the hallway, feeling her own strengths leaving her. Outside, the wind and rain were fierce, announcing an imminent tempest, water droplets hitting the house windows with a deafening noise. After such a long tiring and stressful day, Rena had one desire: to have a light, quick dinner and join her bed.

Rena entered the living room and dropped her briefcase on a chair, startled when she noticed the obscurity greeting her and the unusual quietness of the house. Her gaze drifted to the top of the staircase, wondering why she couldn’t hear Natsuki playing, then noticed their domestic robot standing by the side of the living room’s television. That definitely piqued her curiosity. “Alfred? Why are you not playing with Natsuki?”

When the robot didn’t react, Rena blinked in confusion. “Alfred, did you hear me?”

His large blue eyes lightened at last, and the robot stepped forward; acknowledging her presence. “M-Mistress? Y-You c-called m-me?”

“Yes. I asked you why you were not upstairs with Natsuki,” Rena repeated, destabilized by the slight jerks in his metallic voice.

Rena was taken aback by his lengthy response time.

“That’s because little Mistress is upset that Mistress Jurina didn’t come to pick her up after school. She refuses to let me enter her room.”

“What do you mean, she didn’t pick her up? Weren’t they supposed to go to the zoo today?” Rena asked, feeling a tinge of doubt. “Show me the calendar.”

The robot projected an image on the wall, blurry and unreadable at first, which caused Rena to gaze back at the robot in curiosity, before it adjusted and got clearer, revealing the family’s monthly schedule. Rena’s confusion arose; the data displayed confirmed what she thought. Jurina was indeed supposed to leave work earlier today to spend quality time with their daughter.

“Did Jurina warn you about any change of plans?” Rena asked, seeing the robot nodding negatively in response. She stood in the living room for a moment, analyzing the situation. Alright; that was strange.

Rena retrieved her Bluetooth earpiece from her vest pocket, and placed it inside her ear. “Call Jurina.”

Calling Jurina. The device responded to the command, dialing. Rena waited, hearing the call ending after one ringing, and falling on Jurina’s voicemail. Rena extracted the earpiece, checking it for any potential malfunction, then put it back inside her ear when nothing appeared out of the ordinary. “Call Jurina.” She repeated, the robotic voice recognizing the command and dialing the requested number. A couple of seconds later, she reached the same result.

Straight to voicemail.

Rena removed the communication device, and faced Alfred’s expectant look. “Something unexpected must have come up at work.” She tried to keep her voice light and unconcerned, but knew she’d failed when she saw Alfred frowning at her.

“Mistress Jurina always calls when she’s delayed at work,” the robot answered, visibly not convinced by the explanation.

Rena didn’t say anything, knowing he was right. It wasn’t like Jurina to not warn them if she was going to be late, even less not to respect a promise made to her daughter. Natsuki was Jurina’s little sunshine. She spoiled their daughter like no one else, always ready to please her and give in to all of her whims. For nothing in the world, would she do anything to tarnish Natsuki’s happiness.

Rena kneeled in front of the robot, catching his hand. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll have news from her very soon.”

They held one another’s gaze, the mechanical fingers closing around hers. Rena’s mouth broadened into a smile at the glimmer of hope shining in his blue eyes, amazed by how expressive the humanoid robot could prove to be. Some days, it was so easy to forget that he was a machine, by the genuine, great affection he harbored for the three members of the family. But Rena knew his unfailing loyalty would always go to one member above all. It was the person his eyes had laid on for the very first time, when he got switched on almost a decade ago. It was the one who had held his hand, and given him a unique name, and to whom he had vowed to obey and serve his whole life.

His precious Mistress Jurina.

“I’ll go and see Natsuki.” Rena gently slipped her hand away from his grasp, receiving a weird crackling sound of agreement in response. The latter made Rena pause, asking herself if something couldn’t possibly wrong with the robot, making a mental note to herself to mention it to Jurina later.

Rena climbed the stairs leading towards the first floor, fearing nothing she would say would be sufficient to quell their daughter’s disappointment. Approaching Natsuki’s bedroom, she distinguished the light filtering from underneath the door, but the deadly silence reaching her did not augur anything well about her daughter’s mood.

She opened Natsuki’s door, seeing an instant look of relief greeting her, only for it to transform into a blatant disappointment at her sight. Rena wasn’t offended by her reaction; she knew it wasn’t her that their daughter longed to see the most right now. Rena stood at the entrance of the room, taking a moment to study the scene. Natsuki was sitting on the floor, head low, her back leaning carelessly against the side of the bed. Duran, her all-time favorite stuffed toy, wasn’t in her arms but laying on the pillow, while her toy box remained untouched in front of her.

“Hi honey. Mommy is home. What are you doing?” Rena leaned down, dropping a tender kiss on the top of her head. When her question was met with silence, she turned to the stuffed toy left on the pillow. “I’m sure Duran must be feeling alone up there.” She reached out for the stuffed dog and tried to place it inside Natsuki’s arms, but her daughter refused it and faced the other way.

“I don’t want Duran.”

Rena took a seat by her side, and slowly wrapped her arms around her waist. “I know you’re upset Mama didn’t come to pick you up after school,” she carefully said, seeing how her daughter refused to meet her gaze.

“She promised!”

The dramatic outburst startled her, and she met Natsuki’s angry look. “I’m sorry she couldn’t come. I know you were looking for it.” She caressed the length of her back in a soft, soothing gesture. “I wish I knew what happened, but I can only imagine that she got delayed at work. Maybe someone requested her presence and attention, and she couldn’t free herself as early as she wished.”

“Someone more important than Natsuki?” Rena witnessed her daughter’s anger progressively changing into a mixture of sadness and incomprehension.

“No, no one is more important than you.” Rena gathered her into her arms. “Don’t ever think that.” When she heard the soft sniffing against her neck, she strengthened her hold. “Your mama loves you more than anyone in this world.” Rena gently pulled away, wiping away the budding tears forming in Natsuki’s glistening eyes. “She would never do anything to make you sad, and I know she will make it up for it.”

Rena smiled at her confidently, and drew her back into a long, comforting hug. After a while, she heard the crying diminishing and she approached Duran closer to the little girl, relieved when it wasn’t rejected. “Why don’t I ask Alfred to come and play with you?” Rena offered, playfully pulling onto the dog’s tail, pretending to want to steal it from her. “What do you think? There’s still time before dinner.” When Natsuki pulled the stuffed toy into her arms in a possessive gesture, and her gaze lingered on the untouched toy box, Rena hid a smile, sensing her daughter’s mood had considerably improved.

“Yes, I’ll call Alfred.” Rena placed a kiss on her cheek.

Rena spent the following half-hour finishing some work, reassured by the high level of noise and laughter coming from upstairs. Natsuki seemed to have swapped back to her usual cheerfulness in Alfred’s presence, and it never ceased to amaze her how fast children were capable of going from one mood to the next. On occasions, Rena would look out the window, wondering what could be delaying her wife so much, and hoping she wouldn’t forget to take an umbrella to protect herself from the pouring rain.

She had almost reached the bottom of the financial report she was reading, when a sudden scream reached her.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

At the sound of her daughter’s alarmed voice, Rena raised her head from the digital tablet and left it aside on the table, standing up from the chair to join her upstairs. The instant she opened the bedroom door, she faced Natsuki’s frightened look.

“Mommy! Alfred isn’t speaking anymore!”

Rena glanced down at the humanoid robot standing by her daughter’s side, his eyes extinguished and void of their familiar blue glowing light. As she studied further her daughter’s small companion, she noted something else: the light located on the right side of his neck had turned red. “Hum, I see. Maybe he simply needs to recharge.”

Rena kneeled and lifted the robot, carrying him out of the bedroom and downstairs, closely followed by her daughter’s hurried steps. Once in the living room, she placed the domestic robot on the recharging station. She found it a bit odd. Such an incident had never happened. When his batteries were low, the robot would systematically take the direction of the recharging station on his own.

She waited for the result, Natsuki burning with anticipation beside her with Duran secured in her arms, yet was surprised when the light didn’t turn orange as usual when the robot was on charge. Rena removed Alfred from the recharging station, believing in a temporary connection problem, then put it back in place. She repeated the process a few more times, but despite her best efforts, the light remained desperately red. “I’m not sure what the problem is. Mama will check it when she gets home, alright?”

“W-What if Alfred never speaks again? What if I can’t play with him anymore?” Natsuki stammered, petrified.

“Of course, you’ll play with him again,” Rena said reassuringly, softly caressing her shoulder. “Mama often improves Alfred so he can be more intelligent and spend more time with Natsuki every day. Alfred is getting old now. He probably needs more time to rest, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.”

Rena gave her a smile, and saw her relax slightly. “Why don’t you go back and play in your room? I’ll call you when it’s dinner time.”

Natsuki looked hesitant. “I don’t want to. Can I wait for mama with you?”

“Of course.” Rena embraced her, kissing her temple. “I still have a bit of work to do. Why don’t you watch some TV in the meantime?”

Natsuki beamed in reaction, and Rena watched her retreating form as she walked away and jumped on the sofa, immerging herself in a cartoon. Rena returned to her work, yet quickly lingered back on her daughter. Two unhappy events in the same day were definitely too much to handle for such a young girl, but Rena was convinced everything would go back to normal once Jurina would return.

Rena stared up at the digital clock on the wall: 8 p.m. Usually, Alfred was the one to remind her of the time when she let herself get carried away by work, but the daily routine had been abruptly disrupted. Rena turned off the digital tablet and slipped it in her briefcase, beginning to feel concerned by Jurina’s absence. Seizing the Bluetooth device from the table and, noting she hadn’t received any message from her, she decided to give her wife another call. Her new attempt was met with the same result, and she fell onto the voicemail.

Powerless, she darted a look towards the living room; Natsuki’s attention was still entirely monopolized by the cartoon playing on the television. “Honey, it’s 8 p.m. Can you put the table on?”

Natsuki glanced back in her direction; her eyebrows arched in surprise. “We’re not waiting for mama?”

“I don’t know when mama is coming home, and it’s already late. So it’s best if we start eating without her,” Rena gently explained.

Natsuki switched the television off and slowly climbed off the sofa, Rena not missing the slight dejected look on her face as she entered the kitchen. A silence fell as they ate dinner, none of them having the desire to respect this usual time for convivial sharing. Rena could see that Natsuki was feeling down, but she was having difficulty finding the adequate words to cheer her up, equally disturbed by the situation. The reasonable part of her brain was telling her that there had to be a simple, logical explanation for Jurina’s tardiness, but the lack of news and contact from her struck her as odd and unsettling.

The sound of the front door ringing extracted both family members out of their thoughts, a sudden cry of joy escaping Natsuki’s lips as pleasure plastered her features. For a split moment, Rena did share her enthusiasm, also believing the missing member of the family was finally home, and she stood up from the table. However, her smile progressively faded away as she entered the hallway, and realized something didn’t make sense. Jurina would never ring to enter her own house.

When she opened the front door, she was faced with two police agents, their long black uniforms drenched from the rain, standing on her doorstep. “Good evening, Matsui-san. I’m agent Kimura,” said the first male officer, then motioned the female agent by his side. “And this is agent Inoue.” He removed his cap, politely bowing to her. “We apologize for disturbing you at such a late time of the day. May we come in?”

“O-Of course.” Rena stepped aside, letting them in, noticing the young female agent’s attention drawn to Natsuki who had joined her side.

“Hello, what’s your name?” The female agent asked with a gentle smile, and leaned down to her height.

“M-My name is Natsuki.” Came the shy reply.

“Hello, Natsuki. I’m Inoue-san. Your mommy needs to have a talk with my partner. Would you mind showing me your bedroom?” She asked, then glanced up to the head of the family. “That would be alright with you if I stayed a bit with her?”

Rena found herself momentarily at a loss for words by the strange request, but nodded in agreement, giving Natsuki an encouraging light tap on the back when she saw her eyes flickering hesitantly between the police agent and her. “It’s alright, honey. Go play in your room with the lady. I’ll call you when our conversation is over.”

Rena watched them leaving and climbing up the stairs - listening as Natsuki was prompt to present with enthusiasm her favorite stuffed toy to the female police officer – then was distracted by a male voice addressing her. “Matsui-san, are there other people present in the house?”

“No, it’s only me and my daughter,” Rena calmly answered. “My wife should be on her way from work. May I know what this is about?”

“Do you mind if we take a seat?” He bowed and said, indicating the direction of the living room.

Rena found her interlocutor a bit stiff, but chose to ignore it, nodding in agreement. She led the way, listening to the heavy steps of the male officer’s boots behind her, until she stopped in front of the table and offered him a seat. Once he had settled down, she mimicked his gesture and pulled a chair. The silence that followed between them felt almost heavy, Rena not missing the way the male police officer was nervously avoiding her gaze while he placed his cap down on the table.

Rena was about to repeat her unanswered question, when the new visitor faced her back and opened his mouth.

“I’m afraid I have some very bad news to tell you. Your wife was involved in a car accident. According to initial findings, the driver fell asleep, and the car’s radar system didn’t detect in time your wife’s presence on the crosswalk.”

Rena’s heart raced; her whole body stiffened. “A car accident? How is she? Is she at the hospital?”

The male police officer shifted uneasily in his seat. “The damage was too severe. By the time the ambulance arrived on the scene, it was already too late.”

“I don’t understand. W-Where is she?” Rena’s voice quivered; she felt a tightness in . “Is she at the hospital? Is it serious? When can I see her?”

“You wife didn’t survive,” the male agent said, his voice filled with pain and empathy. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Rena felt dizzy and lightheaded. “No, it’s not… it’s not possible. It has to be a mistake. You must have the wrong person.”

“I’m afraid there’s no mistake. We found your wife’s ID card in her vest pocket. I know my words will never be enough to alleviate your pain, but the paramedics said she died instantly. She didn’t suffer.”

Rena vaguely heard the officer’s words, but barely understood them. Her headache became suddenly acute. A nausea seized her, and she had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting. The room seemed to swell around her; she could hardly breathe. The last thing she distinguished was the police officer’s alarmed voice calling her name, before blackness swept over her and she faded into unconsciousness.