The Surrogate He Discarded

Isobel listened with unwavering attention, every word Morgan spoke holding her captive. She had always admired the way his mind worked—the way he could untangle the most complicated ideas and weave them into words that were both precise and compelling.

It wasn’t merely intelligence. It was clarity. Conviction. The kind of confidence that commanded a room without ever demanding it.

She was so absorbed in him that she failed to notice the lingering glances directed her way.

Kristoff watched her from across the room, his gaze thoughtful, almost wistful.

Richard Learson’s expression was gentler, filled with quiet pride.

Morgan, however, noticed both.

Kristoff’s attention didn’t surprise him. Given the history between the man and Isobel, it was almost expected.

Richard, on the other hand, intrigued him.

The man was new to Novare, yet the way he looked at Isobel wasn’t that of a stranger. It was the look of someone who had watched her grow—someone who had known her long before the rest of the world discovered her brilliance.

Morgan filed the observation away.

”That concludes my presentation,” he said. ”Now, I’d like to invite the manager of our R&D, Isobel Lancey, to introduce the project in greater detail.”

A round of applause filled the boardroom.

Kristoff had already seen Isobel present during the convention.

Even then, she had impressed him.

But seeing her from only a few feet away was an entirely different experience.

She stood before the audience with effortless poise, every movement purposeful, every explanation delivered with calm certainty. She transitioned seamlessly from the digital blueprints to the physical prototype, anticipating questions before they were even asked.

She wasn’t simply presenting a product.

She was telling its story.

The audience leaned forward without realizing it.

So did he.

Meanwhile, Richard’s chest swelled with quiet pride.

He had known Isobel was extraordinary long before anyone else.

He still remembered the tiny girl whose curious eyes never stopped searching the world for answers. He had answered the million Whys she asked. When she did not understand how a thing worked, she would pester him to tell her.

He had taught her to recognize the alphabet when she was two, just as other children struggled to say a complete sentence.

She was reading by the age of two.

Writing by three.

By four, she’d devoured every nursery rhyme and children’s book the orphanage could offer, leaving the shelves empty for her.

There was nothing left to challenge her.

Richard had often thought fate had been cruel to place a child like her inside an orphanage. It clipped her wings and limited her potential.

With the right family...with the right opportunities...there was no telling how high she could have soared.

Then came the day a couple chose her for a trial adoption.

He had smiled as he packed her few belongings. He was both happy and sad.

She deserved a home.

She deserved parents who would nurture the brilliance she carried so naturally.

He had believed her future was finally beginning.

Instead... less than a week later, she returned.

Broken and devastated.

She ran into his arms the moment she saw him.

”Richie...” she sobbed, clutching the front of his shirt with tiny trembling hands. ”I hurt them... They didn’t want me anymore.”

Her tears and snot soaked through the fabric, her little body shaking against his chest.

Richard held her tighter.

He didn’t care that his shirt was stained with tears and snot. He only cared that a five-year-old believed she was unlovable.

”It wasn’t your fault, Bel,” he whispered, stroking her hair. ”It was an accident.”

She cried even harder and Richard hugged him tighter.

The memory never truly left him.

...

”Do you have any questions?”

Isobel’s calm, clear voice pulled Richard back to the present.

A man near the front raised his hand.

”Wouldn’t this be... too intrusive? Couldn’t it be used to spy on the owner?”

Isobel smiled patiently.

”The permissions are entirely customizable. The owner has complete control over what AI toy can access and what remains private. You decide which features to enable and which to disable.”

She paused just long enough for the audience to absorb her answer.

”That said, limiting permissions will naturally reduce some of its capabilities. It’s a balance between privacy and functionality.”

The man nodded, satisfied.

Another hand shot into the air.

”What is the name of this AI assistant?”

Without missing a beat, Isobel answered.

”Lexar.”

For the briefest moment—Kristoff froze. His eyelashes fluttered in surprise.

Lexar.

The name echoed inside his head.

Every feature Isobel had just described... he had seen them before.

Just a few weeks ago, on the toy he had bought for Alexander.

His pulse quickened.

No...

It couldn’t be.

Unless...

The toy Alexander had been using all this time...

...was never a KitKat at all but a beta prototype.

The very first Lexar.

Then, that alarmed in the middle of the night that woke him up and saved Alexander, was it Isobel’s doing?

Kristoff’s gaze shifted to Morgan.

One of his brows arched ever so slightly.

Morgan frowned.

It wasn’t difficult to tell Kristoff was asking a question without uttering a single word. The problem was, Morgan didn’t know what that question was—much less the answer to it.

When Morgan offered nothing in return, Kristoff turned his attention to Isobel.

Their eyes met.

There it was. The question she had expected. He wasn’t asking about the presentation anymore.

He was asking about Lexar.

Isobel held his gaze, her expression composed. She understood what he wanted to know.

But she wasn’t ready to tell him.

After a long beat, Kristoff finally voiced the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since she revealed the product’s name.

”The name Lexar...” he began, his tone perfectly even. ”Does it have a special meaning?”

His face remained unreadable, betraying none of the curiosity simmering beneath the surface.

Isobel smiled faintly.

”It sounded right,” she said. ”Simple. Memorable. Appropriate for the product.”

She let the silence linger for a heartbeat before adding,

”But yes...”

Her eyes met his once more.

”It does have a special meaning.”

The corner of Kristoff’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

She wasn’t denying it.

So, she named it after their son, Alexander.