He has a new 'girlfriend'?

Garrett helped Owen up, one arm sliding around his waist like they’d been lovers for years. The guy’s grip was surprisingly strong for his skinny frame and when he pulled Owen into a tight hug, his face buried against Owen’s shoulder, Owen felt the guy’s breath against his neck.

“I love you so much, babe” Garrett murmured, voice soft and shaky with sudden emotion. “I’m so sorry these girls got rough with you. I’ll never let anyone do that to you again, I promise.”

Owen froze in the embrace, skin crawling. The same voice that had sneered “dumb bitch” at Paige on the video call was now whispering sweet nothings like they were a couple. He **** himself to pat Garrett’s back once, awkward, mechanical then gently pushed him back far enough to breathe.

“Yeah… it’s okay,” Owen said, voice flat. “Just… surprised me.”

Garrett beamed up at him, eyes shining behind the smudged glasses. Owen bent down, peeled the tape strip from Garrett’s calf. The words “MY GIRLFRIEND” were gone from the tape, clear plastic now, ink transferred perfectly to the pale skin beneath. A faint black outline remained where the letters had been.

Garrett tilted his head, watching Owen examine the mark. “You checking out my legs?” he asked shyly, a small giggle escaping. “You like what you see?”

Owen didn’t answer. His gaze shifted to Paige on the bed. She hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d carried her there.

Garrett followed his stare. His smile faltered for half a second, something like jealousy flickering across his face before the affection smoothed it away again.

Owen tore another strip from the roll, grabbed the marker that had skittered under the dresser. He uncapped it, ready to write something, anything to fix Paige. But the manual’s words flashed in his head: permanent until overwritten. No reversal. No memory restoration. And even if he slapped “MY GIRLFRIEND” on her now, he wasn’t sure it would work

He needed time. Real time. Hours, maybe days, to figure out what could be salvaged, what couldn’t. And he couldn’t do it with Garrett hovering or the house full of programmed women who still answered to their “master.”

He had to play it smart. Safe.

Owen looked at Garrett. “Hey… babe,” he said, forcing the word out. “Can you do something for me?”

Garrett lit up. “Anything.”

“Gather every woman in the house. Bring them to the living room. All of them, maids, statues, cleaners, everyone.”

Garrett nodded eagerly. “Okay. Why?”

“I just want to meet them properly. As your boyfriend.”

The guy practically bounced. “I’ll do it right now.”

He darted out, calling down the halls. Within minutes the women started filing in, silent, obedient, every one of them moving with that eerie, synchronized grace. The living room filled: maids in lace, statues shifting into new poses on command, the wallet woman carried in and set on the coffee table, the twins crawling from their closet, the milk dispenser standing beside the couch, the door opener unchained for the first time in who knew how long. All the women Owen had interacted with and more filled the hall.

Garrett stood at the front, clapping his hands for attention like a proud host.

“Everyone,” he announced, voice ringing with excitement. “This is Owen. My boyfriend.”

All the women looked at Owen, the ones who Garrett had left with some cognitive capacity left whispered amongst each other. Owen who now stood next to Garrett whispered into his ear.

Garrett nodded and began speaking again, “My boyfriend wants me to tell you that he’s in charge now. You obey him the same way you obey me. Whatever he says goes. Got it?”

A chorus of soft, monotone affirmatives filled the room. “Yes, Master.” “Yes, sir.” “Understood.”

Garrett looked back at Owen, eyes wide and hopeful. “Is that okay, babe?”

Owen nodded. “Perfect.”

He waved a hand. “You can all go back to what you were doing. I’ll call if I need you.”

The women dispersed immediately, silent, efficient, no questions. Garrett lingered, waiting for more praise, but Owen just gave him a tight smile.

“Go make sure the doors are locked,” Owen said. “I want to be alone with Paige for a bit.”

Garrett’s face fell for a second, jealousy again, but he nodded. “Okay. I love you.”

He left.

Owen stood in the suddenly quiet living room, staring at the empty space where the women had been. Some of the ones who had been carried in from other rooms were still left in place, he realised that it was because he hadn’t specified that they needed to be returned too. Clearly there was a lot he needed to learn.

But now, he had the house.

He had the tape.

He had Paige.

And he had a lot of work to do.