The rooftop bar was a bold choice for a chilly October evening in Boston. Another storm was on its way. I looked toward the ocean, where lavender and orange light danced across the glass spires of new skyscrapers rising between old brick facades. Waves crashed against the Blue Shield Barrier, the smart seawall fortress guarding the shoreline below. Somewhere beneath us, the low hum of autonomous traffic merged with distant chants from yet another protest. Up here, it all felt miles away.

  We were celebrating with my law school classmates, the Class of 2048, a few colleagues from Gallagher & Burke Legal Services where I still worked as a paralegal, and Derek, my boyfriend, a delegate for ViraRx Therapeutics. We clustered around high-top tables and artificial fire pits in cocktail attire. Drones buzzed above us, filters whirring softly as they cleaned the smoky air. My shot glass scattered the golden hour light into tiny rainbows across the tabletop.

  “Another round of shots!” someone yelled near the bar.

  Derek reappeared with two drinks and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Cheers, sweetheart. You earned it.” We drank. He kissed me behind the ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I winced as a sharp pain shot from deep in my pelvis, radiating across both hips—right beneath Derek’s hands. The pain had slowly been getting worse over the last couple of weeks. I had run out of primary care appointments and couldn’t afford the subscription tier needed for more. It would have to wait.

  I turned to Derek, wrapping my arms around his neck. My heels gave me three inches of strategic elevation. Worth every blister. He pulled me close until our middles touched. I felt something hard in his pocket—the corner of something small and square. My breath caught. He cupped my face and kissed me. Then he drew back, took both my hands, and looked serious.

  “Mia...”

  “My turn!” Lina barreled into me, throwing her arms around my shoulders and planting a wet kiss on my cheek. Derek dropped my hands with an exaggerated eye roll and shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “Congrats to you too!” I laughed, just as her AR glasses jabbed into my temple.

  “Aw, shucks.” She grinned. “Can you believe they still can’t import synthetic champagne? That embargo better lift soon. At least the printed shrimp’s decent. Tastes vaguely like the real thing...if you’ve never had the real thing.” She shrugged.

  I nodded in agreement.

  “You know,” she added slyly, “this is your last chance to come to ViraRx with Derek and me.”

  “She could never,” said Will, my firmmate, turning around and feigning a gasp.

  “You’re just bitter you didn’t get recruited,” Lina teased, flipping her brown curls. “The credit advancement alone makes the subscription worth it.”

  “Mia would never sell her soul to ViraRx,” Will said, certain. “There’s not a perk in the world that’d make her walk away from the good fight.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Guilty,” I replied dryly. “Although... the 20-year housing contract, the Greenline access, luxury travel credits, and the real meat stipend were tempting.”

  It was hard not to wonder if I got the offer because of my résumé or because Derek asked his father to keep me close. Maybe it didn’t matter. The contracts were generous for a reason. People used to riot when access to clean water excluded many. Now we just upgrade our plans.

  “And working next to your boyfriend every day...?” Derek added quietly.

  “This from a woman who still wears her notifications on her wrist!” Will teased, lifting my arm to show off my smartwatch.

  Pain lanced through me again. I winced.

  “It was my grandma’s,” I muttered. “It’s sentimental.”

  They rolled their eyes. My watch synced to my hearables. I could still get visual notifications, have an AI assistant on call 24/7, voice texting, real-time language translation, and audio filtering like the rest of them, but most of them had already moved on to AR glasses or contact lenses. Some even had new retinal or subdermal tech. They could unlock doors or hail rides with just a blink or a wave.

  The conversation split off. I turned to Derek.

  “And yeah,” I said, “not seeing each other every day will be tragic.”

  He exhaled sharply. His jaw tightened, but he turned away. “Whatever. I’m getting another drink.”

  Will leaned closer, nodding toward Derek’s tall silhouette storming off. “Something going on with you guys?”

  “Same fight,” I sighed. “He says if I really care about our future, I’d subscribe to ViraRx. But I didn’t claw my way through law school to enforce corporate tiers. I wanted to argue for the voiceless—not invoice them.”

  “You wouldn’t even be in the same division. He’s management, you’re legal. Natural enemies.”

  “That’s what I told him.”

  Will grinned, dimples deepening. His short curls bounced in the breeze. “Did Tremblay assign you anything yet?”

  “Yeah, assisting on the Sackenberg case once we’re sworn in.” Officially, it was Rosen v. Sackenberg Dynamics. A seventeen-year-old kid died walking off a bridge under construction after a firmware glitch in his AR glasses obscured his view. The company tried to bury the logs.

  “Same!” He held out his hand. I locked hands with his in our signature handshake. “We make a good team.”

  Derek returned, slid an arm around my waist with quiet authority, and pulled me close. “We should go. My father’s waiting downstairs. The party’s starting.”

  ViraRx was hosting a welcome party for the new recruits in the hotel below.

  I nodded and turned to Will. “See you Monday.”

  He gave me a quiet wave. I lifted my hand in reply, holding his gaze for a second too long. Derek’s arm tightened around my waist, steering me away.

  Lina had drifted back to the bar, drawn in by the heated conversation from several voices.

  “Do you think Governor Reynolds will actually sign the Corporate Infrastructure Sovereignty Act?”

  “If she does, she’s ending public governance. Our infrastructure will be under the sole control of the megacorpations, and who’s to stop them from unfair practices?”

  “Yeah, but without it, the desal plants shut down. No water. No grid. Nothing.”

  “I thought all the governors of the Northeast Kingdom Alliance had to be in agreement?”

  I tapped her shoulder. “Time to go, babes.”

  She linked her arm with mine. Derek followed as we walked toward the grand staircase. Every breath I took to keep up with Lina’s long strides sent a deep ache through my ribs. Breathlessness overtook me. At the top of the stairs, the world began to tilt. My legs went unsteady.

  “Mia? You okay?” I heard Lina ask, reflexively tightening her grasp around my arm as I wobbled.

  “She can’t hold her liquor,” Derek muttered, irritated.

  I tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come.

  My vision slowly unraveled into darkness.

  The voices receded.

  “MIA!” someone screamed in the distance—but I wasn’t there anymore. I was offline.

  I was weightless.