As I was passing Amandine’s house, I stopped. There was a sign on the door: “Renting a studio with room, bathroom, kitchen and furniture at the ba...k of the house: call XXX…”. I took the number and drove out of the neighborhood.I did not want to rent the room, too risky that the guy who used to watch a women ended up renting a room of hers. It was just perfect to take an “innocent” contact with Amandine. I stayed the week on the motel of the house, making acquaintance with the town, its people. On the drive over, Oscar tried to guess how old she was — maybe around 30? She hadn’t mentioned a significant other, which worried him a bit.She laughed to herself, “Nope. That’s the not so fun side of being a therapist — when you fight with your husband, he always thinks you’re practicing on him.” She turned to Oscar, “I’m no miracle worker, I never would’ve been able to fix that mess.”He laughed — she seemed to have a similar sense of humor to his. “How long were you married, if you don’t. He gave her a box of supplies that she would need to maintain it with, put it on charge, and left. Waiting for it to charge, Emma left to buy some groceries for her meal with John later that night. She picked up some steaks, a couple bottles of wine, and a few other bits. Once she got home, she noticed that her android's eyes were flashing green. It was a little disconcerting. She walked over and looked at it properly. It had a completely smooth face with no features, unbrushed hair, and was. I could stand alone in the middle of a stadium and no one would take notice. I was however smarter than most, and my sense of humor was top notch. I had a few good friends, but we all were about the same, average. I graduated high school somewhere near the top of my class, and went to work for a local photographer. He worked as an industrial photographer, would only do a wedding as a favor to a good friend. I was just a go-fer for about a year, learning the equipment, helping to set up shoots.