The door opens. You and Ophelia see a twenty-something female brunette standing in the doorway. She has a pistol in her hands, pointed right at you both. Looking down the barrel of her gun, you quirk an eyebrow. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

Recovering her composure, Ophelia steps toward the woman. "Delilah, what do you think you're doing?" she scolds her. The woman lowers her gun. Her hands are trembling, you note. "I-I'm so sorry! I got... I got scared, that's all! I swear, I just panicked! I heard voices, and..."

Ophelia's normally stoic face wears an expression of distinct exasperation. You half expect her to roll her eyes. Meanwhile, the intruder—Delilah—gulps. "Did... Did I interrupt something?"

Ophelia sighs. "Never mind about that. Just come in."

The woman takes a step forward and looks at you inquisitively. "Who are you?"

Ophelia's look of exasperation morphs into one of incredulity. "He's the master's close friend, and the one who designed our home! How could you not know that?"

"... Oh. Oh!! So he's Mr. Architect!" the brunette exclaims, turning to you wide-eyed. "Huh. Are... are you a very famous person, Mr. Architect?"

You smirk. "Hardly. Just a man trying to make a living for himself and the woman he cares for." You're amazed at how easily the words fall from your lips.

"... Is that right?" she says, her eyes darting to Ophelia. "I didn’t think... Wow. How did you two meet?"

Now there are two people staring at the guest incredulously.

"How—How—How did we..." Ophelia splutters.

"I was referring to my wife!" you bark.

Delilah's eyes widen like saucers. "Oh!" She giggles nervously. "Sorry, sir! Uh... It's been a long day. I'm not thinking straight."

"What is it that you wanted to tell us?" Ophelia asks testily.

"Oh! That's what I came here for. Mr. G told me to tell you that he told Aisha to tell your wife that you'd be coming down any moment soon, so wouldn't you like to get ready?"

You check your watch. "... I see. Yes, it is about time for me to leave."

Ophelia's head subtly turns in your direction, but you ignore her. "Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you, Delilah."

"Just call me Lily, Mr. Architect! Call me that and you'll be on the 'nice' list!" she winks cheekily. "I know, I know—‘Why Lily?’" she continues, answering a question you wouldn't have bothered asking—"you see, Mr. G was complaining that me and Ophie's names were too similar-sounding, so this was my solution!"

Your eyebrows rise. "... Very well, Lily. I have one last thing to say to 'Ophie', and then I'll be on my way. Would you mind leaving us for a minute?"

"Sure thing! I'll be waiting downstairs to see you and the other guests off!" She gestures with her pistol, then spins on her heel and leaves, shutting the door behind her. Humming a little tune as she skips away, her sing-song voice recedes into the distance.

Turning to face Ophelia, you see that she has already recomposed herself, her weary expression from earlier giving way to her usual cool demeanor. Except, perhaps, for her eyes, which seem... alive? You're not sure how else to put it. They burn with an intensity she hasn't shown until now.

"... Thank you for staying. I just have one question before you go; how will—"

"Don't thank me yet," you interrupt. "Your request... I'm going to have to decline it."

Ophelia is staggered. "What?! But...!"

"I can't assist in the way you want me to. I'm sorry." You know there's no hope for success. As soon as Amir catches wind that you're planting unwelcome ideas in the mind of one of his wives, he'll prohibit you from coming again. And even if you obtain good results unnoticed, there's a more than fair chance he'll simply dispose of Ophelia. You're much better off persevering with Amie, and Amie only...

"I see..." She looks down. "I understand... I suppose that even if I could convince you, it really wouldn't do any good. Regardless, I appreciate your having taken the time to... speak with me." She breaks off, averting her eyes.

"... You're welcome. Goodbye, Ophelia." You take a sideways, almost cautious step toward the door, then turn fully and walk out, leaving the silent android in Gheibollahi's dimly lit study.

As the door clicks shut behind you, you can practically feel a weight being taken off your shoulders. With a spring in your step, you make your way to the mansion's front door. As you walk, you briefly consider telling Amie about your encounter, then dismiss the possibility just as quickly. There's no need for her to know. Frankly, you think you would have been better off not knowing. The thought of Amie's doppelganger in Amir's arms is...

...

... Let's think about something else.

You know you have to keep yourself grounded. You can't get caught up in the clouds. You can't improve the lot of every android you run into. Nor is there any need for it. After all, they don't feel anything; not truly. If you start anthropomorphizing Ophelia, where will it end? It's enough that you plan on striking a blow against societal mores with Amie; your efforts may not benefit androids like Ophelia and their owners, but you have to trust that they'll pay off in the future...

You enter the foyer. The Virgin overhead contemplates you with tranquil but inexpressible eyes. They’re tinged with sadness and another emotion you’ve never been able to identity; truly, the original artist had done an outstanding job…

At the opposite end of the room, near the grand entrance doors, you see two women conversing. One of them is in red, the other wears a blue dress. Their backs are turned; they haven't noticed you yet. Crossing the room, you call out, "Amie."

The woman in blue turns around. Recognizing you, Amie acknowledges your presence with a smile as bright as a summer day.