Somnia Online by K.T. Hanna (reading strategies book txt) 📕

had to be one of the lamest excuses her mother could have come up with, but she still appreciated the effort.

“Yeah, Mom. Don’t think it’s residual, considering I just stopped us from getting second degree burns. I’d like to say it’s a bit weaker here, which makes me feel extremely relieved.” Only she didn’t feel proud, she felt scared.

And then Harlow’s arms were looped around her neck, giving her a warm, secure hug without squeezing too tight. Wren sighed into the gesture, resting her face against Harlow’s arm, so glad to have Harlow with her.

Laria raised an eyebrow and smiled with happiness. “You two look cozy.”

Wren blushed, and she was pretty sure Harlow just turned the same shade as her hair. “We’re good. Been through a lot this last month or three.”

“You two have always been inseparable. You let me know if I can help with anything.” Laria’s smile shrank a little, as it was obvious her mind darted to something else. Wren knew her mother had meant just in case Harlow’s parents reacted differently, but she was fairly certain they’d end up being okay.

“Thanks,” Harlow beamed moving around to sit half on Wren’s lap. “I feel like this is more like my home anyway.”

This time Laria seemed thoughtful. “It always will be.” It was like she’d decided about something or other, and she turned around to take a look at the kitchen before heading toward her office.

“I have something I need to do,” Laria called to her daughter, her tone brooking no argument. “Make sure you eat good food, and refresh yourselves before you dive back into that damned game.”

Wren turned briefly to look at her mother, but the programmer didn’t turn back around. Frowning, she grasped Harlow’s hand, grounding herself. Because if she did it without thinking, she’d probably start a fucking rockfall in her parent’s kitchen.

“Did you hear?” Wren finally managed to get the words out.

Harlow moved down, still holding Wren’s hand and kneeled at the side of her chair. “Yeah. Kind of hard not to. It’s not the biggest condo in the world.”

Wren tilted her head back and studied the ceiling. There was so much she wanted to be able to say. And so much she didn’t understand.

Calm down. It’s not that bad. You’re going to be fine. You just come with a few improvements now.

I really wasn’t talking to you. Wren couldn’t keep the lifelessness from her voice. There was just something about having an artificial intelligence speaking inside your mind without anything to physically link you to it that knocked all of the wind out of her.

The ceiling was interesting. Far more interesting than the turmoil happening in her brain. And just so much more interesting than the thing hanging around in her head.

“You doing okay?” Harlow’s voice was gentle, a few decibels down from her usual volume. Like she knew that Wren needed some space to deal with her whole brain shit.

Hell, it was like Harlow had known her for her whole life.

Wren started to laugh. Just a soft chuckle at first, but then some more. She was tired, though less so than she’d been before. And she was exhausted from all the emotions running through her, not to mention the fact that her head was, in fact, sort of like a computer right now. Or perhaps a server was a better description.

Maybe she could download info into her brain. Jinna, Masha, and Risk had definitely been able to download some form of the virus into their brains, after all.

That thought made her push all of her worries to the back of her mind and focus on the others instead of being selfish and focusing on herself. Not that it was necessarily selfish, but since she couldn’t personally do anything about her current predicament, it only stood to reason that she should tackle something she could control.

Harlow was watching, her brow furrowed with concern as she obviously tried to discern if it was a good or hysterical laugh. Wren smiled, stood up, pulling Harlow with her, and snuck in a very gentle, sweet kiss. Even that second of contact grounded her world again, making everything separate back into doable chunks. One thing at a time. Harlow didn’t need a game to be magical.

“Well, that’s good, then.” Harlow laughed as Wren pulled her into a huge hug.

That’s how it felt. “Yeah. Just like always you make everything better.”

Harlow raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, though. What are you talking about? What idea did you just have that caused that reaction, and what can I do to help you keep that smile on your face?”

Several things ran through Wren’s mind right then, and none of them bore repeating in a house into which her parents had installed a high-tech security system. Coughing to clear her head, and hopefully hide her blush, Wren spoke. “We can talk about the smile on my face later. The guys have…hmmm, no. That’s not right. Masha, Risk, and Jinna—and I think a couple of others who I’ve noticed hanging around with them all now—have fragments of the virus screwing with their headgear, maybe even their actual minds.”

“I think they’ve been infected through contact with Jirald.” Harlow’s expression took on the dark tones of a very vicious thundercloud, and she crossed her arms, thus completing the scowl.

“Yeah, I know, but at the same time, this is a good thing. Knowing where it came from for once is actually an advantage. I’ll need to talk to my mother.” Wren was already running through some ideas in her head. If they could pull the stats from Jirald’s headset, and maybe from the others to see if they’d all been adjusted, tampered with, or just plain assembled together out of duct tape and wires, then there was a possibility that if those same headsets were removed, they might still be normal.

Hopefully none of them had been altered to the extent Wren’s had. Just one fried brain was more than enough. For all she knew, this whole