Digital Mutation (Book Five)

Chapter 5: Troubleshooting

Annalise enters her apartment, eyes drooping and shoulders aching with the weight of the homework in her backpack as she shuts the door behind her. Pepper comes barrelling towards her, leaping up at her legs in a wiggling mess of doggy happiness, and Annalise kneels to pet her.

"Hewwo Peppy Pep. Who's a good pupper? You are," she coos, scratching at Pepper's ears while the dog furiously licks at her face.

"Annalise?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm home," she calls.

She hurries to the kitchen, where her mother is drying dishes. She smiles at the sight of her daughter, waving with the plastic container in her hand. "There's cookies on the table," she says as she stoops to put the container away. She frowns as she straightens up, eyes widening. "Oh, I forgot to get milk."

"I've got it," Annalise says, dumping her backpack on one of the dining room chairs. "Mind if I make a mocha?"

"I just made coffee. Go ahead."

Annalise takes the time needed to get her drink ready while also making a fresh cup for her mom. Two sugars, no milk, just like she likes it. As she prepares the drinks, she casts a look at the kitchen table, strewn with papers, and her mother's tired face as she sits down and opens her laptop. Leanne Hughes is young, far younger than most of Annalise's classmates' parents at 35, but between the grief she's carried and the hard work she puts in to keep their little family of two afloat, she seems older.

Annalise eyes the papers on the table as she carefully sets her mom's coffee down beside her. The sheer amount of numbers is enough to make Annalise's head spin, and she's actually pretty decent at math.

"They're really working you hard, aren't they?" Annalise comments as she sits down, stirring her mocha and lightly tapping the spoon on the mug's edge.

"I'm trying to get ahead on a few projects before tax season," Leanne replies. She takes a sip of her coffee and lets out a grateful sigh. "Oh, thank you for making that."

Annalise nods. She sips at her drink and nibbles on the cookies, chatting aimlessly about her day at school while her mom listens, nodding along. It's become a bit of a routine. Annalise wouldn't mind if her mom would return the conversation more, but Leanne refuses to vent too much about her work, handling it with grace and perseverance.

For the longest time, Annalise assumed that she looked like her mom—the blonde hair and the grey-blue eyes were telltale to their relatedness—but as time went on, Annalise heard more and more about the little things that she got from her dad; his smile, the way his eyes crease, his laugh, little things in her personality that her mom knows aren't from her.

It's weird, Annalise thinks, to have so many traits from a man that she remembers so little about. Still, she feels a sense of pride whenever she passes his picture in the hallway, looking proud and handsome and young in his U.S Army uniform. He's only a Private in the portrait. He died a Sergeant.

Annalise finishes her snack and reaches for her backpack. "I'm gonna go upstairs," she says.

"Alright. I'll call you down for supper," comes the easy response. Her mother's eyes don't leave her laptop, intensely focused on her accounting work.

The second Annalise gets into her room, all she wants to do is collapse onto her bed and have a long nap. She resists the allure of her cosy IKEA bedsheets and instead slides into her desk chair and opens her laptop.

She scrolls through the comments on her contest announcement video, glad to see that most of them are positive and excited. She checks her entry website and finds that there are plenty of eager subscribers already entered. She peruses the entries, reading over the questions with mild curiosity, and stops when she finds the one that she's looking for.