Frank - Robot &

The Robot looks at the diamonds. “Your dopamine levels are at a five-year high, Frank. Your cognitive clarity has improved by 14%.”

The Robot tilts its head—a mimicry of human curiosity. “You wish to return to criminal activity?” Robot & Frank

The Robot doesn't take offense; it isn't programmed for it. Instead, it walks over and places a hand—cold, silicone-wrapped sensors—on Frank’s shoulder. “I am programmed to ensure your health. My primary directive is to keep you here, in this house, for as long as possible. If you do not cooperate, your son will move you to the Memory Care Center in White Plains.” The Robot looks at the diamonds

Frank flinches. The "Center." A place where the wallpaper is chosen by a committee and the doors are locked from the outside. “You wish to return to criminal activity

“Frank,” the Robot says. Its voice is a neutral, synthesized baritone—a sound meant to soothe, but to Frank, it sounds like a funeral bell for his independence. “It is 2:00 PM. You have not engaged in your cognitive exercises.”