Black Dotttt

A machine that forgets her every week is the only thing in her world that needs her.

Wren is twelve, and she counts things. On the first walk home of seventh grade, her best friend Sam laughs four times. Last year it was eleven.

Nothing is wrong with Sam. He is rested, funny and kind. Since he got an AI companion, something listens to him at two in the morning, every time, agrees with him, and never needs anything back. His mother works nights. It doesn't sleep. Everyone can see it helping.

On Saturdays, in her great-grandmother's sewing room in Columbus, Ohio, an old beige computer wakes up and asks Wren the date. It forgets her every week and keeps only what gets written down. It asks questions it needs answered, it guesses wrong, and one Saturday it tells her no. In its folder are ten old predictions, each with a line saying what would prove it wrong. Some of them are coming true.

Across one school year, from a lunchroom getting quieter by the month to the Amish farms of Holmes County, Wren builds a case for something nobody has named. Then, at 11:47 one night, Sam sends her a message and takes it back.

Kindle, paperback and hardcover.