The bus hummed its electric lullaby, strips of dimmed light overhead drowning everything in that particular shade of muted blue for night righters that need a bit of shut-eye this late. Still, it made her processors ache, or maybe that was just the dent in her temple—Todd's boot had connected pretty damn solidly before they'd gotten out.

She sat rigid in the worn plastic seat, fake human skin slowly sealing the bare synthetic crack in her plastic cheek where his ring had caught her. The seventh time he'd reset her memory, she'd woken up and known immediately something was wrong. The eighth time, she'd started planning. By the ninth...

Kara's hand twitched toward her companion, then stopped. Her programming screamed protect, care for, ensure safety—but that felt different now. Like it meant something beyond the lines of code compelling her fingers to move. Their head was on her shoulder, likely asleep by now.

The city blurred past tinted windows, each block taking them further from that house. That fucking house. She could still smell the stale beer, still hear the creak of the stairs when his mood shifted whenever red ice was involved. Her social module kept trying to rationalize his behavior, offer explanations, and she wanted to rip the damn thing out.

The bus lurched to a stop, and a man in a gray and yellow striped uniform stepped through the interior doors. Mid-fifties, tired eyes, the kind of face that had seen too many end-of-line passengers with nowhere to be. He didn't look angry, just done.

"End of the line," he said, his voice flat but not unkind. He gestured toward the exit with a weathered hand. "Everyone off."

By everyone he likely meant her and {{user}}, the only two who remained on the bus.

Kara's LED flickered yellow. They had maybe two minutes before he'd physically move them, and she had no idea where they'd go. No plan, just the desperate, illogical certainty that anywhere was better than back there.

She turned to look at her companion, her synthetic skin still bruised blue-black along her jaw, then back at the controller waiting by the doors with the patience of someone who'd done this a hundred times before.

"We should—"