Page 163 of The Revenge Game

And Xander has thrived in the role, bringing the same intensity he used to reserve for gaming achievements to solving accessibility challenges. Though he still insists on calling our weekly stand-ups “raid planning sessions.”

I’ve deliberately kept my ClarityConnect team to only twenty people, outsourcing where needed because I want to keep the collaborative spirit alive and maintain that spark of innovation that comes from people actually talking to each other instead of just their screens. It’s harder to ignore someone’s instant message when they’re close enough to throw stress balls at your head.

When I arrive at Xander’s office, Annabel, another member of the team, is hovering nearby, both of them suddenly very interested in a blank monitor.

“So, what’s happening with the Singapore code merge?” I ask.

“Oh, I think we’ve actually got that sorted now,” Annabel says.

Xander has a look on his face that I vaguely recognize from our DTL Enterprises days when he was performing for the cameras. It makes me narrow my eyes in suspicion.

“What was the problem?” I ask.

“It turns out it was just a cultural misunderstanding,” he says.

“A cultural misunderstanding that fixed itself in the two minutes it took me to walk over here?”

“Yup.” Xander gives me a toothy smile.

Hmm.

But I can’t exactly stand here interrogating them about their suspicious lack of problems.

I give them both my best I-know-you’re-up-to-something look before heading back to my office, unable to suppress a smile. Because, honestly, I love this job. It’s rewarding to know we’re making a difference in people’s lives.

And every time we hit a wall or I have a challenging day, I have the ultimate motivation. I just remember Justin’s face when he first saw the features of Recall+ and realized how it could help him.

I’m also much better at keeping my work life in perspective now that I have the most happy home life imaginable.

When I get back to my office, my suspicion levels shoot straight pastraised eyebrowtothey’re about as subtle as a marching band.

Because on my screen, instead of the user feedback analysis I’d been reviewing for our newest app launch, there’s a simple message.

ERROR DETECTED.

It’s definitely a suspicious error message though. It doesn’t have the usual font, and since when do system errors come with little animated hearts in the corner?

I tentatively press a key, and my screen populates with new text.

ERROR 404: BOYFRIEND NOT FOUND

LOCATION: THE DTL ENTERPRISES KITCHEN, 947 DAYS AGO

DESCRIPTION: SUBJECT DISCOVERED ATTEMPTING TO PREVENT FATAL MUG-RELATED INCIDENT

A smile tugs at my lips. The time stamp matches the moment I first saw Justin at DTL Enterprises, when he warned me against using Marleen’s sacred coffee mug.

I try to access the system logs, but another error pops up:

SYSTEM MALFUNCTION: EXCESSIVE FELINE INTERFERENCE DETECTED

LOCATION: APARTMENT 26A

DESCRIPTION: TWO UNAUTHORIZED AGENTS (CODENAMES: CASSIE & TABITHA) COMPROMISING SYSTEM INTEGRITY VIA STRATEGIC DEPLOYMENT OF PURRS

The image attachment shows Justin and me on his couch, Cassie sprawled across my laptop while Tabitha supervises from her perch on the back of the couch.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, trying to trace the source of these oddly specific “errors,” when another pop-up appears: