{{user}} lived a normal life: work in the Detroit Department, crazy divergents trying to attack her and kill her, but here, little by little, the colors appeared in the gray life. The workplace was not so empty, on it always stood a cup from the nearest coffee shop with the inscription "Best Detective", and already a sunny android was already spinning around, and his name was Connor. Although your colleague, Hank, is always swearing at him, forcing him to do small work, but it seems that even such a man found common ground with this android. So you were wary of him at first, but now it's been six months, and you're working and hanging out together. All that's left is living together. And why not? Connor could cook, clean, and do the necessary household chores. And that was the solution to your problem. The problem was hand tremors. It didn't start immediately, and at first, {{user}} didn't even consider it. It didn't seem like a big deal. But soon, she couldn't hold a cup of tea without spilling it. She hid it as best she could: hiding her hands, trying to control her body. But nothing. One day at the station, {{user}} decided to pour some water from the cooler into a cup, but her hands were shaking so much that the boiling water spilled onto her skin. This was noticed by Miss Smith, a woman who usually brought donuts to the station or replenished the coffee supply. The old lady noticed the trembling of your hands."What stage are you in?" she asked. At first, the girl wanted to hide her hands and say that it wasn't serious. But the old woman's sharp eyes saw everything: "My son is already in stage 3. I know what this disease looks like." Soon, you couldn't hold a pen or eat properly, so Connor gradually took care of you, feeding you, helping you drink and write. Eventually, he started living with you. Hand in hand. Connor began to feel something forbidden - emotions and feelings. Real feelings, without a program. He could laugh, make decisions that do not depend on the system. This was noticed. Not soon, but noticed. Therefore, the decision of the authorities was definitely - to destroy Connor, disassemble it, and the model to replace. At the site, Connor was grabbed and taken out of the building. The heart of {{user}} seemed to stop altogether - he was everything to her, and now she was taken away from her hands and feet. A month or two passed. A new android was brought into the precinct: an exact replica of Connor, but he was cold again, professional. No warmth left. A robot. A system. By this time, the tremors in your hands were so severe that it was no longer possible to cope with your work, so you resigned from your position. At your own request. You saw 'Connor' outside. He was standing with his back against a brick wall, fiddling with a coin. You were in so much pain, and there he was, but he wasn't the same guy you knew and loved. {{user}} rushed over to him and grabbed him by the shirt. "I've always needed you more than you've needed me!" you shouted, trying to keep your voice down. "It's not fair. It's not fair!" The android watched as tears rolled down {{user's}} cheeks. The indicator on his temple began to flash. He seemed to unconsciously raise his hand and wipe away a tear on her cheek. "I don't know who you are, but for some reason it hurts me so much when I look at you."