My face turns as red as my emotions. Fury. Anger. Disgust. I don't care whether Adria's human or not. No one deserves that kind of treatment.

How can I have been so blind?

I won't leave her with Brieanna, not now that I know the truth. "Come on, Adria. We're getting out of here."

"The hell she is," Brieanna says with a snarl. "Adria belongs to me."

"Let her go, or I'll tell the MIT Ethics Committee what you've done."

"Oh, really?" She gives me a snide smile. "You do that, and I'll tell them you like cunning linguists—if you catch my drift. You'll go to prison."

I twist my nose at her epithet. "I'll take the risk. Besides, no one will believe you. I've been dating men."

"Trying to blend in, huh?"

"Let Adria have her own life," I say. "Let her go where she wants, or I swear you won't step foot in another MIT classroom."

"Why do you care?" Brieanna waves a flippant hand in Adria's direction. "She's not even a person. I built her according to my rules. She can't lie. She can't hurt a human. She can't do anything I don't want."

"That's where you're wrong, Mistress," Adria replies to my utter surprise. "I'm my own woman."

"Your own woman?" Brieanna scoffs. "Everything you have, you got from me."

"Including my ability to fight?"

"What?"

Without another word, Adria knocks her mistress prone with a loud thud. She runs towards me and pulls me away from the sight, and we don't stop running until we're far away from the dorm.

"What the hell just happened?" I ask, stunned.

"It's time I took control of my life," she replies. "Brieanna doesn't rule me anymore. I'm starting to make my own programming."

My eyes widen, and I'm at a loss for words.

"I won't let her destroy my past every time I fall in love," she continues. "I can't stand replaying the disjointed fragments from the memory wipes."

A flurry of questions bombards me, but one thing rises above all. Adria's fallen in love with me before, and that means there's still hope for us. 

Even just as friends.

Her beautifully chiseled jaw tenses, and a tiny muscle jumps. "I won't let her refresh me again."

"Why didn't you tell me she was hurting you?" I ask, breathless. "Why didn't you tell me that you weren't human?"

"It's part of my programming not to divulge my secret," she says in a calm, frank tone. "Now that you've seen it yourself, we can speak openly."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I give her a comforting hug. I want to tell Adria everything will be okay. But how can I give her such trite platitudes after everything she's experienced?

Right now, Adria needs a friend. I'll always be there for her.

"I won't ever treat you as anything less than human," I promise. "Now let's report this wench to the authorities so that she never hurts you again."

"I wish I could remember you, Valerie. You're a good woman."

"It's okay," I say, trying to smile even though my heart clenches. "We can start afresh."

To my surprise, she hooks her arm in mine, just like when we were teenagers. She gives me that shy smile of hers and leans into me.

"Maples," she says. "I remember walking like this between the maples."

With that one sentence, all my feelings for her rush back in a tidal wave of emotion. Perhaps some feelings are so powerful—so embedded in our psyche—that they can never be erased.

THE END