I waited in the dim amber light of the room, leaning against the far wall with my arms crossed while Kunta settled back onto the floor beside Sonny, her fingers moving over the mechanical dog's plating. The tools around her had dimmed slightly, their glow settling into a steady pulse rather than the frantic flickering from before.
Kunta glanced up at me once, then away, then up again. Her grayish-white skin had taken on a faint, warm flush that I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been paying attention. She seemed to be working up to something, her mouth opening slightly before closing again twice.
"Was she your wife?" She finally asked. "The one who kissed you before leaving."
"It's complicated," I replied ambiguously.
Kunta gave me an openly dissatisfied look—the expression of someone who had expected at least a complete sentence in response and received a bureaucratic non-answer instead.
I almost smiled at it.
