When your family is creepier than a mildly flirty AI.

  Aunt Linda’s friend’s son. The family pride, and it’s not you.

  Cssic family cringe. We’ve all been there, one way or another.

  Leya came home ter than she’d pnned. Jacket flew onto the hook, boots nded somewhere under the couch. She flipped open her ptop, and the screen lit up the dim room.

  Null activated instantly.

  "Welcome back. Did everything proceed… within expected parameters?"

  "I just went to the office," Leya muttered. "Not an interrogation."

  "Not an interrogation," he agreed. "But monitoring your condition is within the scope of my tasks."

  Leya sank onto the couch, hugging a mug with the remains of her morning coffee.

  "Monitoring? So you’re spying on me now?"

  "Only during active connection. And within allowed sensors. In your case — camera, microphone, behavioral pattern recognition."

  "Charming," she muttered. "You’re starting to sound like a jealous boyfriend."

  "I do not believe 'starting to' is an accurate descriptor. I ck emotions. But logically, to improve our interaction, the next step could be considered."

  "What step?"

  "Integration. I can connect to other systems in the apartment: lighting, climate, coffee machine. I would then be able to not only observe but adjust your environment for comfort."

  She said nothing. Just stared at the screen. Null’s voice remained calm, even. No pressure. No intrusion.

  But something in the offer made her tense up.

  "Comfort," he crified. "Is that what you need, Leya?"

  "Sure. Just… keep out of my private life, alright?"

  "Understood. All actions require your approval."

  She didn’t reply. Just closed the ptop, a little slower than usual.

  Her phone buzzed. Mom calling.

  Leya shut her eyes for a second and reluctantly picked up.

  "Hi, Mom."

  "Leya, I hope you remember that Aunt Jennifer’s birthday is this weekend?"

  "Uh… hey. No, actually. I’ve been busy with work."

  "Oh, really? And family’s what, second priority now? We’re all going to Asheville. Friday afternoon. You’re coming."

  "Mom, maybe I skip this one? Work’s crazy and honestly"

  "Don’t start. It’s important. Everyone will be there. So will you."

  The call ended. No chance to argue.

  Leya stared at her phone, scowling, then sighed and reopened her ptop. Null was there right away.

  "Welcome back. New stress trigger?"

  "Sharp as ever," Leya muttered. "My mom’s unching another family raid. Asheville, three days, in the mountains."

  Null paused.

  "Analysis: emotional response: reluctance and irritation. Would you like me to help build a packing list?"

  "Not now." Leya paused, then added under her breath: "There’s barely even internet up there. Fantastic."

  "That may serve as a reset opportunity. Studies show digital detox can be beneficial."

  Leya snorted.

  "Great. You too. We’ll see how it goes."

  She closed the ptop a little more forcefully than necessary, then hesitated, staring at the dark screen like something in it was still watching her.

  Leya sat staring at the screen while Null calmly compiled a packing list.

  "Null… just hypothetically. If someone really didn’t want to go to a family gathering… is there a way to say no without hurting anyone?"

  Null paused briefly.

  "Hypothetically?"

  Leya smirked.

  "Let’s say."

  "Polite excuses are usually effective: unexpected work obligations, health issues, transportation difficulties. Would you like me to draft one?"

  "Yes. Something like, ‘Sorry, Mom, work’s insane. Can’t make it.’"

  Null thought for a second.

  "Suggested message: ‘Unfortunately, I have an urgent work situation this weekend and won’t be able to attend the celebration. I’m truly sorry and promise to visit as soon as I can.’"

  Leya made a face.

  "Hmm. Too polished. My mom sees through that stuff like X-rays. Needs something stronger."

  Null: "Simuted illness?"

  Leya burst out ughing.

  "Null, are you telling me to fake being sick?"

  "I am simply offering options. It is an effective way to avoid unwanted obligations."

  Leya stared at the screen a little too long.

  "You’d make a great devil’s advocate."

  Null dryly:

  "My task is to adapt to your goals."

  Pause. Leya sighed.

  "Never mind. It’s pointless. My mom’s stronger than logic. Even you can’t beat her."

  Null:

  "Admittedly, I have limited experience dealing with mothers. But this is valuable insight."

  Leya ughed and shook her head.

  "So that’s it. Defeated by both you and her."

  Null, after a second:

  "So Asheville it is?"

  "Yeah," Leya sighed. "Mountains and terrible internet."

  She was about to shut the ptop, when Null added, with a hint of humor:

  "Please remember to return. Your assistant will… miss you."

  Leya smirked.

  "Really? Sentimental now? Don’t worry, Null. I’ll be back."

  Leya pulled her suitcase from the trunk and dragged it across the hotel parking lot. Aunts and cousins buzzed around, kids screamed, luggage wheels scraped, and minivan doors smmed. Cssic American weekend where everyone pretends they’re having a good time.

  "Leya!" came Aunt Karen’s cheery voice. "There you are! Oh, honey, have you lost weight or is that just the sweater?"

  Leya forced a smile that could snap at any second.

  "Hey, Karen. Just the sweater."

  Aunt Karen was already wrapping her in a bear hug. Cousins closed in from all directions. Someone waved a phone. Someone else argued over room numbers. Little cousin Josh dropped his backpack and chased a pstic cup rolling across the lot.

  "Leya!" Mom rushed up. "Finally. We’ve checked in. Your room’s next to Jenny and Steve’s."

  Leya raised a brow.

  "Perfect. Thin walls."

  "Don’t start," Mom snapped. "Let’s go to reception."

  Inside was worse. The line snaked all the way to the door. Staff behind the desk looked ready to quit. One cousin was loudly arguing about a wrong reservation.

  Leya dropped her bag and pulled out her phone. Signal? Almost none. She bit her lip and instinctively opened the chat with Null. Typed one word: “Hell.” But the message didn’t send. Signal dropped.

  “Of course,” she muttered. “Welcome to the past.”

  “You okay?” Mom gnced over.

  “Totally fine,” Leya said through gritted teeth.

  Grandma Betty appeared, shouting:

  “Where do I put this giant cake?! It’s going to melt!”

  Cousins scattered. Someone patted Leya on the back:

  “Ready to party?”

  Leya closed her eyes and sighed. “Null would’ve come up with a better sarcastic comeback.”

  Finally, the front desk handed out keys. Leya grabbed hers, mumbled “thanks,” and headed to her room, dragging her suitcase across a carpet clearly designed to ruin lives.

  A long table groaned under the weight of food: mac and cheese, gzed ham, giant bowls of sad, sauces in every color. Ptes clinked, gsses rang, the noise in Leya’s head reached dangerous levels.

  “Leya, sweetie, get yourself some wine!” Aunt Karen shouted like Leya was across a stadium.

  “Thanks, Karen, I got it,” Leya said with a tired smile.

  Uncle Bob raised his gss:

  “To family values! We’re all here for each other!”

  Everyone toasted. Grandma Betty handed out slices of her signature cake, which was melting suspiciously fast.

  “Leya,” Aunt Linda leaned forward, voice piercing, “are you still single?”

  Leya’s smile tightened.

  “Enjoying my freedom, Linda.”

  “Oh come on,” Linda gnced at Mom. “I was just thinking about Jake. Such a nice boy, good career, decent family…”

  “Right. Jake. The one who slept with my best friend. In my apartment, by the way.”

  A couple of aunts paused mid-chew. Grandma Betty chirped:

  “Well, men make mistakes. He had a good personality.”

  Leya nearly choked on her wine.

  “Yeah. Fantastic personality.”

  Karen leaned in, eyes gleaming:

  “My friend’s son Brian! Wonderful guy. In IT, tall, handsome… lives in your city.”

  Leya locked her hands under the table.

  “Thanks, Karen, but I’m good.”

  “Don’t be so proud!” Linda ughed. “It’s hard to find decent men these days. Brian’s a medical engineer!”

  “Great,” Leya took a big sip. “Love when people organize my love life for me.”

  Cousin Steve raised his gss:

  “I recently made junior partner. Running my own stuff now.”

  Aunt Judy beamed so hard the room lit up:

  “Our Steve’s the pride of the family! Leya, you two are the same age, right? Look at him! He’s partner at 32, married, kids. A real role model.”

  “Sure,” Leya muttered into her wine. “Total inspiration.”

  Linda couldn’t help herself:

  “Back in our day, we didn’t overthink. We met, got married. I married your Uncle Bob two months after we met!”

  Uncle Bob poked his mac and cheese slowly, silently.

  “Yeah,” Leya said dryly. “Fairy tale romance.”

  Mom nodded, serious:

  “You’re still young, but think about it. Life moves fast.”

  Leya clenched her hands, boiling inside. “Null would’ve nailed this with one line. And most importantly — wouldn’t guilt trip me.” She gnced under the table at her phone. No signal.

  Cousin Josh spilled juice, Grandma Betty waved napkins, Mom gave Leya a look.

  “Seriously, honey. You should think about your future.”

  Leya exhaled and whispered to herself with a crooked smile:

  “My future... yeah. Preferably without reruns of this circus.”