Three days in this penthouse, and I still can't turn on the lights.
It's embarrassing. Deeply, profoundly embarrassing. I'm a billionaire who owns an island and has a private chef on retainer, yet I can't operate my own light switches. Except there are no switches because the penthouse is a smart home controlled by voice commands. The trigger word is "Chen Home." Simple enough. Two syllables. Easy to remember. Except the system was calibrated to recognize the old Vivian's voice, and apparently my voice isn't good enough.
I stand in the middle of the living room as the sun sets behind the city skyline. The light fades until I'm standing in complete darkness. The city glitters outside the windows, but inside there's only shadow.
"Chen Home," I say clearly. "Lights on."
Nothing.
"Chen Home. Lights. On. Please."
Nothing. The smart home system continues its silent rebellion.
I take a deep breath. Maybe my pronunciation is wrong. "Chen Hom." Nothing. "Chen Ham." Nothing. "Chen Hooooome." Nothing.
I'm losing my mind in the dark, talking to an invisible butler who refuses to acknowledge my existence.
"CHICKEN HOME."
The words explode out of me before I can stop them. Loud and desperate and completely ridiculous. I don't know where they come from. If "Chen Home" isn't working, maybe "Chicken Home" will.
The lights stay off.
I stand in the darkness, defeated—a billionaire wrapped in unicorn pajamas who has just yelled "Chicken Home" at her ceiling like a lunatic.
Then I hear it.
A soft footstep. Then another.
Lucas.
He appears in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint city glow. His posture is perfect. His suit is impeccable. His ears are pink.
"Ms. Chen," he says carefully. "Is everything alright?"
"Everything is fine. I was just testing something."
"In the dark."
"Yes."
"At ten o'clock at night."
"Yes."
"Yelling 'Chicken Home.'"
I close my eyes. "How long were you listening?"
A pause. "Long enough. I heard 'Chen Hom' and 'Chen Ham' and several creative variations. I also heard the final attempt involving poultry."
"You heard me say 'Chicken Home.'"
"I did. Three times. At increasing volume."
I want the floor to swallow me whole. "The lights won't turn on. I've been trying for twenty minutes. Nothing in this penthouse listens to me."
Lucas is quiet for a moment. Then he speaks, his voice soft and clear.
"Chen Home. Lights on."
The penthouse floods with warm golden light. The living room appears around me in all its minimalist glory.
To him. The house listens to him.
I stare at Lucas. He's standing exactly where he was, hands clasped behind his back, expression neutral. His ears are pink, but his face reveals nothing.
"Chen Home," he says again. "Lights to fifty percent."
The lights dim obediently. Soft and warm and perfect.
"Chen Home. Lights off."
Darkness.
"Chen Home. Lights on."
Light.
"The system responds to voice recognition," he explains. "It has had six years to learn mine. It will learn yours as well. But it needs time."
"So my own house doesn't recognize me."
"It will. It simply needs to become familiar with your current vocal patterns."
"Because I'm not the same person I was before the fall."
His ears go from pink to crimson. "The system can be recalibrated. I can arrange for a technician."
"You can control everything in this penthouse, and I can't even get it to acknowledge my existence."
His ears are burgundy now. "I would not phrase it that way."
"How would you phrase it?"
"The system has determined that I am a trusted administrator based on six years of consistent interaction."
"So my house thinks you're the boss."
"I would not phrase it that way either."
I laugh. The absurdity crashes over me all at once. I'm a billionaire who can't turn on her own lights. I've been screaming "Chicken Home" at my ceiling while my assistant listened. My own smart home has decided Lucas is more trustworthy than me. And honestly? It's not wrong.
"I hate this house," I say, still laughing.
Lucas's mouth twitches. "It is a very nice house. The architecture is award-winning."
"It's a traitor that has abandoned me for my assistant."
"I am sure it would respond to you if we recalibrated the voice recognition."
"Don't bother. I'll accept my fate. Living in darkness, dependent on you to turn on the lights like some kind of Victorian ghost."
"That is a very vivid image."
"I've had a lot of time to think in the dark. Before I started yelling about chickens."
His other ear twitches. Both ears are pink now.
"Would you like me to leave the lights on?" he asks. "Or would you prefer darkness for your Victorian ghost activities?"
I look at him. Standing there in his perfect suit with his perfect posture and his perfectly pink ears. He heard me scream about poultry and didn't laugh. He simply waited until I was ready, and then he turned on the lights like it was nothing.
"Leave them on," I say. "I've had enough darkness for one night."
He nods once.
"And Lucas?"
"Yes, Ms. Chen?"
"Thank you. For the lights. And for not laughing at me when I yelled 'Chicken Home.'"
His ears go from pink to red. "You are welcome, Ms. Chen. I would not have laughed. It was a logical progression from the original command, given the phonetic similarity."
"You're saying 'Chicken Home' was logical."
"I am saying I understand how you arrived there."
I smile. That's probably the closest Lucas Grey will ever come to telling me that my absurd poultry outburst made sense to him. And somehow, that's more comforting than if he had simply laughed.
"Goodnight, Lucas."
"Goodnight, Ms. Chen."
He turns toward his study, then pauses.
"Chen Home. Lights to thirty percent, warm tone."
The lights obey him instantly, softening to a gentle golden glow. He walks away, his back straight and his steps measured and his ears still very pink.
I stand alone in my living room, wrapped in unicorn pajamas and surrounded by obedient lights that only listen to my assistant. Tomorrow I'll ask Lucas to recalibrate the system. I'll learn to control my own house. I'll stop yelling about poultry at the ceiling.
But tonight, I'll just be grateful that someone else can turn on the lights.
Even if that someone heard me say "Chicken Home" three times at increasing volume.
Especially because of that.