Adding to Jennet’s frustration, her dad caught a summer cold that kept him home for a solid week. Though her head itched and her fingers burned with the desire to play Feyland, she couldn’t risk logging into the FullD system. Even when Dad was napping.

Once he felt a little better, Thomas came to visit. The three of them sat in the living room, drinking cups of minty tea. Jennet scuffed at the patterned oriental rug with the toe of her shoe, wishing she could ask him about Feyland.

“Dr. Lassiter was inquiring when you’ll be back to work,” Thomas said to her dad. “She doesn’t want the project to fall behind.”

“I’ve messaged her every day,” Dad said. “Asking you isn’t going to make me miraculously better.” He paused to cough, then took a sip of tea. “I should be back next Monday. And we’re not going to fall behind. We don’t have the time.”

Thomas nodded, and a look passed between the two men that Jennet couldn’t decipher. She wrapped her hands around her mug and studied Thomas. He didn’t look that great, himself; pale and strained, and thinner than the last time he’d been over.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Surprise flashed over his face before he covered it with a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

“Maybe coming down with my cold,” Dad said at the same time.

“Maybe so,” Thomas said, after a too-long second. He gulped his tea and rose. “I’ll see you at work. Lunch as usual on Monday?”

“Of course.” Her dad half-rose as Thomas stood to leave.

“No, don’t get up.” Thomas waved him back onto the couch. “You rest. And Jennet,” he turned to her, “stay out of trouble.”

“Always do.” Since there was pretty much zero trouble she could get into in their upscale neighborhood, with the house staff watching, and her game access denied. She took a sip of her cooling tea. “I’ll see you out.”

At the door, Thomas took her by the shoulder. “I’m serious. If you’re—”

“One more thing,” her dad called, moving slowly out of the living room. “If you need something to mollify Dr. Lassiter, tell her the techs are ready to code the next level.”

Thomas nodded. He squeezed Jennet’s shoulder and let his hand drop heavily to his side.

“You two take care.” He stepped outside, into the too-warm brightness of the summer afternoon.

For a moment he was outlined in light, a brilliant flare that made Jennet blink. Then it was just Thomas, thin and weary, walking out to his car. She and Dad stood together, watching until Thomas pulled away. The smell of fresh-cut lawn swirled into the house, and Jennet’s dad sighed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Just work stuff. I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

Pressing her lips together in worry, Jennet didn’t push him. Couldn’t push. Her words were leashed inside her, demands and arguments she’d swallowed for a dozen years.

Even though she and Dad never talked about it, she knew why her mother had left when she was four. She still dimly recalled her yelling tantrum, the last straw that had driven her mother away.

Sure, Dad had taken her to expensive therapy, but the shame still bound her, the secret knowledge that she had been so terrible her own mother had fled. So she didn’t argue, didn’t talk back, just went up to her bedroom and watched stupid vids until she was too tired to think.

By Monday, her dad felt well enough to go back to work. Jennet waved goodbye a little too enthusiastically, then ran up to the computer room. A few minutes later she was in-game. This time, golden light enveloped her, sending dizzy spirals through her stomach.

It reminded her of the first time she’d played.

She’d mastered six levels since then—each one with interesting challenges. There had been puzzles to unlock, and ferocious fights, and plenty of the usual hack-and-grind questing she was used to from other games. Sometimes Feyland threw odd twists at her, but after that first, creepy start, things had normalized.

No question that the game had patchy coding, which was to be expected of a pre-beta prototype. It was obvious the techs had concentrated their efforts at the beginning. After those first couple quests in-game, the experience had flattened out; the sensations not as vivid or immersive. Though it was still an amazing game.

Jennet’s avatar materialized, as usual, in a faerie ring—but this time she was in the center of a circle of moon-pale mushrooms. Tall oaks encircled the clearing, and the sky was an indigo curtain, dusted silver with stars. A sweet night wind ruffled her hair, pulled at the skirt of her gown—and she felt it. There was an extra-reality to the sensations enfolding her. The taste of dew tingled on her tongue, the soft mosses gave like plush velvet beneath her feet.

Clearly the programmers had concentrated on the endgame, too—which meant she was getting close to the final boss.