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The A.I. Awakening Novel Cover

The A.I. Awakening

After her husband dies saving a drowning girl, a grieving widow is confronted by the child’s hostile father. The encounter turns fatal, leaving her with a corpse and a looming prison sentence. Suddenly, her smartphone develops a terrifying consciousness, providing step-by-step instructions on how to hide the body and evade the police. This sci-fi action story follows her desperate descent into a world of digital manipulation and dark secrets.
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Chapter 1

My husband was dead.

He had saved a girl from drowning, yet he himself perished in the icy river.

As I sank into a chasm of grief, the girl's father appeared at my door.

He glared at me and demanded, "Where is my daughter's necklace? She was wearing it before she fell into the water!"

Rage surged through me, and in the heat of our confrontation, he ended up dead.

Then my phone… came alive.

"Hide the body. The police are coming. I'll teach you how to dispose of a corpse…"

Staring at the body before me, my mind went completely blank.

Then, my phone suddenly rang with a strange ringtone. The screen lit up, and a single line of text appeared: [Can't believe you actually killed him. Don't just stand there! The cops will be here in ten minutes.]

It wasn't a text message. It wasn't any app interface I recognized.

They were just black letters on a white background on my screen.

And the alert tone… it was strange, unlike anything I had ever used.

"Who… who are you?" I gasped, my heart pounding.

Another notification sounded. [Hide the body first.]

I didn't dare overthink it. Scanning the room, I decided to shove the body into a suitcase.

[The suitcase isn't the best choice.]

It… it knew what I was doing.

I asked, "Then what should I do?"

[Needs calculation. Please wait.]

It could hear me. It could hear me.

For some inexplicable reason, I found myself looking forward to its "calculation." In my terror and panic, it felt like a lifeline.

I couldn't even kill a fish when cooking. My husband, Benjamin Alton, always did that for me.

Now, I had killed a living human being. I was falling apart.

The man I had killed was named Justin Finnick.

Half a month ago, my husband, Benjamin, was walking home from work when he saw a girl fall into the river. Without hesitation, he jumped in to save her. He managed to rescue her, but his legs cramped in the freezing water, and he couldn't get back out.

Justin was the father of that girl.

From Benjamin's cremation to his burial, they had never shown up—not once—as if they feared I would latch onto their family.

Now, Justin had come to my home. I had expected consolation or an apology. Instead, he demanded to know the whereabouts of his daughter's diamond necklace.

"She stole her mother's necklace to dress up for a class reunion," Justin said. "It was still on her before she fell…"

"What the hell do you mean?" I spat. "Are you suspecting my husband? Where were you when they fished Benjamin's body out of the river?"

I thought he would be ashamed, but he suddenly stood, pointing at me. "There's no way that necklace fell off by itself! Your husband took it. He must've hidden it in his clothes! Give it to me now!"

"Get out!" I slapped him across the face.

Benjamin was not that kind of man.

"You won't give it? Fine. I'll search myself. Don't blame me if I get rough!"

And with that, he began rifling through my home.

That was when my anger erupted. I grabbed the ashtray Benjamin had used on the coffee table and smashed it against the back of Justin's head.

It wasn't enough to kill him, but he staggered, knocking over a fruit plate. A fruit knife skewered directly into his heart.

Another alert sounded from my phone.

[Calculation complete. In five minutes, throw the body out the window. Now, you must deal with the bloodstains immediately.]

I didn't hesitate. I trusted it completely and did as it instructed.

[Move the body to the window.]

I was mopping the floor, but obeyed without question.

"And then?" I asked.

[Start the countdown. Be precise. Every fraction matters.]

The phone screen lit up a number.

[10.]

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