Chapter 1: The Robot They Tried to Steal
The first thing my stepsister said when she rolled my robot onto the competition stage was, “I call it Aurora.””
For nine months, I had called it Iris.
And for nine months, I had believed that if I worked hard enough, someone in my family might finally be proud of me.
I was wrong.
I stood frozen in the backstage corridor, staring through a narrow gap in the curtain. My fingers were stained with machine oil, my hoodie smelled like soldering smoke, and there was a small cut across my thumb from repairing a loose wire the night before.
Beyond the curtain, nearly four hundred people filled the auditorium.
The National Young Innovators Competition was one of the biggest student technology events in the country. Representatives from universities, technology companies, and engineering foundations had traveled to judge the finalists.
The grand prize included a $50,000 scholarship, a fully funded university internship, and a place in a prestigious robotics development program.
It was supposed to be my moment.
Instead, Brielle was standing beneath the spotlight with my robot.
She wore a white designer blazer, perfectly curled blonde hair, and the confident smile she always used whenever she wanted people to believe she was better than everyone else.
My stepmother, Vanessa, sat in the front row.
She looked absolutely delighted.
“This project is about using artificial intelligence to help elderly people who live alone,” Brielle announced.
The audience applauded.
My stomach twisted.
Every wire inside that machine had been placed by my hands. Every line of code had been written during sleepless nights. I had designed its emotional-response system, its voice-recognition software, and the small sensor network that allowed it to detect when an elderly person might need assistance.
I had even spent three weekends working extra shifts at a neighborhood bookstore to afford its specialized camera.
Brielle had done none of that.
She hadn't even known how to turn the robot on until yesterday.
A man beside the stage leaned toward another judge.
"That's an impressive prototype.""
Brielle smiled.
"Thank you. I've been developing it for nine months.""
Nine months.
The exact amount of time I had spent building Iris.
I stepped toward the curtain.
Before I could move another inch, a hand clamped around my wrist.
Vanessa.
"Don't," she whispered.
I looked down at her fingers digging into my skin.
"Let go.""
"You're not going to ruin this.""
"She's stealing my project.""
Vanessa leaned closer, her smile still fixed toward the audience.
"She's presenting it better than you ever could.""
"I built it.""
"You built a machine," she replied quietly.
"Brielle built a future.""
I stared at her.
For years, Vanessa had perfected the art of making cruelty sound like ordinary conversation.
When Brielle broke something, I was careless.
When Brielle received praise, I was jealous.
When I achieved something, Vanessa found a reason to explain why it wasn't impressive enough.
My father, Daniel, used to defend me.
But ever since he married Vanessa, he had become a man who avoided arguments by pretending not to hear them.
I pulled my wrist free.
Onstage, Brielle placed her hand on Iris's control panel.
"One of the most exciting features is her ability to recognize familiar voices and remember personal information.""
I nearly laughed.
That feature had taken me six weeks to perfect.
"Let's demonstrate," the lead judge said.
Brielle nodded.
"Hello, Aurora.""
The robot's silver head turned.
"Hello, Brielle.""
A few people smiled.
Brielle looked relieved.
I knew something was wrong.
Iris wasn't supposed to recognize Brielle.
The primary-user authentication system was connected to my voice profile. It was designed to recognize only one administrator unless I manually authorized another person.
And I had never authorized Brielle.
"Interesting," the judge said.
"How did you configure the security system?""
Brielle glanced toward Vanessa.
"My mother helped me with the administrative side.""
Vanessa gave the judges a modest smile.
"She's always been very supportive of Brielle's interests.""
My hands curled into fists.
Supportive?
Vanessa had thrown away my first prototype because she said it made the garage look messy.
She had refused to let me use the dining table.
She had once unplugged my computer in the middle of a software update because Brielle wanted to charge her phone.
And yesterday, she had locked me in the laundry room while Brielle carried my robot out of the garage.
I stepped onto the stage entrance.
"Stop lying.""
My voice echoed through the auditorium.
The applause died.
Brielle turned.
Her smile disappeared.
Vanessa rose immediately.
"Maya, get back here.""
"No.""
I walked into the spotlight.
The audience began whispering.
Brielle tightened her grip on the microphone.
"What are you doing?""
"Getting my property back.""
She gave a nervous laugh.
"You're embarrassing yourself.""
I looked at the judges.
"My name is Maya Carter. I designed this robot. I wrote the software.
I built every major component. Her original name is Iris, and Brielle had nothing to do with creating her.""
The lead judge, a silver-haired woman wearing a navy suit, leaned forward.
"Miss Carter, are you making a formal claim of ownership?""
"Yes.""
Brielle stepped between me and the robot.
"She's been obsessed with this project for months. I helped her with some basic parts, but she doesn't understand the business side.""
"Basic parts?"" I repeated.
"You know what I mean.""
"Do I?""
I pointed toward the robot's left shoulder.
"Open the maintenance panel. Show them the custom neural processor.""
Brielle stared at me.
She didn't move.
I continued.
"Tell them what firmware version you're running. Tell them why the emergency response system has three independent communication channels. Tell them what happens when the primary voice-recognition module fails.""
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Vanessa rushed toward the microphone.
"This is a family misunderstanding. Maya has always struggled with sharing attention. She's upset because her sister has received an opportunity.""
I turned toward her.
"Your daughter?""
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"Enough.""
"Yesterday, you locked me in the laundry room while Brielle stole my robot from the garage.""
A collective gasp moved through the auditorium.
Brielle's face turned red.
"You're making that up!""
"Then explain why the garage security camera stopped recording at 8:14 last night.""
For the first time, Vanessa looked frightened.
The lead judge raised her hand.
"Everyone, please remain calm.""
Brielle reached for the power switch.
"Fine. Let's just turn this thing off.""
"Don't touch her!"" I shouted.
But Brielle had already pressed the button.
The robot's screen flickered.
The lights around its head turned blue.
Then a familiar voice filled the auditorium.
"Primary creator detected.""
Nobody moved.
The robot slowly turned its camera toward me.
"Hello, Maya.""
My throat tightened.
I hadn't heard that voice in three days.
"Hello, Iris," I whispered.
The robot's screen displayed a green confirmation symbol.
"Creator authentication successful.""
The lead judge stood.
"That's remarkable.""
Brielle stepped backward.
"That's impossible.""
Then a small compartment beneath Iris's control panel clicked open.
Inside was a tiny black memory card.
My hidden backup.
Vanessa's face lost every trace of color.
Because she knew what was on that card.
And she knew I had never intended for anyone to see it.
The judge looked at me.
"Miss Carter, what exactly does that card contain?""
I glanced at Vanessa.
Then I answered.
"Proof.""
Vanessa suddenly lunged toward the robot.
"Turn it off!""
But Iris spoke before she could reach the control panel.
"Warning. Unauthorized administrator detected.""
A red message appeared on the screen.
*SECURITY BREACH: ORIGINAL CREATOR'S FILES HAVE BEEN ACCESSED AND COPIED.*
The auditorium erupted in whispers.
And then the robot displayed a name.
Not Maya Carter.
Not Brielle Carter.
A third name.
*VANESSA CARTER — ADMINISTRATOR.*
I looked at my stepmother.
She was trembling.
May you like
And I realized stealing my robot had never been the worst thing she had done.
It was what she had used it for.
