There are three ways to kill a robot's heart:

One, remind them of the humanity they cannot have.

"I hope you understand how much we've spent on you," Father said.

Mother nodded vigorously. "You must remember to take care of us in your old age. You don't need the money you're making, I think 50% of your salary is reasonable. The other 50% can be used for your maintenance."

The robot nodded but asked a question anyway:

"Why didn't you just keep the money for yourselves?"

"Don't you know that money from the hand of your child is worth more than money from investments? We have all our hopes pinned on you."

"Yes, you mustn't let us down. Now, no more questions. I don't recall approving that option."

The robot gave a slight bow. "My apologies. May I retire to my room?"

Father and Mother nodded their assent and the robot walked away.

*******

They were simple people and liked simple things.

Breakfast, for instance, was a slice of kaya toast and a half-boiled egg with dark soya sauce. Of course, the bread had to be non-GMO (a rarity in these days) and the eggs were free-range (and worth a fortune) but it was a simple breakfast.

"It's a good thing you don't need to eat," Father said. "Can you imagine how much more it'd cost to have to feed you as well?"

The robot nursed the glass of (non-purified) water in front of it (she wasn't going to drink it, so there was no harm).

"I will be getting my first paycheck," she said. "I will give you and Mother your share tonight."

Mother made a sound of disapproval. It was the 245th time this month.

"That's no way to do it."

"I'm sorry?"

"What did I say about questions?" Mother asked, raising an eyebrow. "You should know that your Father and I aren't materialistic. We don't need you to give us money. You can buy us dinner. I've made reservations at seven."

"My colleagues want me to do overtime."

"I'm sure we paid a lot more than them for your services. You'll be at the restaurant by seven. I've sent the directions to your system."

The robot bowed again and Mother felt a frisson of annoyance. That girl always had the same reaction. Ungrateful robot.

"I must leave for work," she said and got up. "Thank you for breakfast. I will dispose of the water responsibly."

Mother turned to Father to complain even before the robot left the room. "Didn't you buy any gratefulness? I told you to make sure that she was top of the line."

"And she is. If you saw the price you wouldn't be doubting me."

"Why do I need to concern myself with money? Now, you must remember to wear the shirt that goes with the tie I got you. I've phoned several of my friends to tell them that our daughter is going to treat us with her first paycheck."

"Are you mad, woman? What if they realise who she is?"

Mother rolled her eyes. "Isn't she supposed to be an exact copy? Anyway, no one remembers her anyway. They are going to be absolutely green with envy." She drew out the word 'absolutely', savouring every syllable. "I can't wait."

*******

"You're so lucky your daughter chose to come back. Mine still won't come home. She says Pluto is more fun, not as stressful as life on an actual planet."

Father place his hand on the robot's shoulder in approval.

Worth every credit.

*******

"What excuse did you use this time?" the old man asked as the robot walked in, holding a plastic bag of chrysanthemum tea, a straw sticking out of the corner.

The robot hung the drink of the handle and took off her coat.

"I told them I was going to work. Anyway, they don't need me now that their real daughter is back."

She thought back to their last-minute instructions.

"When she's here, you're not to call us mother and father. It'll upset her."

As written in the manual, she had acknowledged the instructions with a cheerful smile, handing over the previously agreed upon percentage of the pay. And she had stood quietly when the real girl came back and took the money.

"Aren't you their daughter too?" The old man gave her a concerned glance. "In their application form they said that they would treat you like a real daughter."

The robot shrugged and drew both feet up. "I'm not supposed to care, remember?"

******

Two, force them to confront their true nature.

"You broke her? How could you break the new model so soon?"

Everyone peered at the newest worker. She was sitting at a terminal, methodically transferring names from the list that was faxed over into the system. There had to be over a hundred names in there.

West went to take a look. The robot was humming as she worked, but there were mistakes. A few names were repeated two or three times.

"Yup, you definitely broke her," she said, glaring at her colleague. It wasn't like they needed confirmation. They had all known that the robot was broken when she typed out a report in binary and didn't even realize what she wrote. They had to give her another instruction to translate it into Chinese before anything happened.

"I didn't think that she would be that weak," her colleague protested, his mouth turned down at the sides.

Well, none of them had expected this. She was the latest model after all; and they had custom-ordered her from the maker. Her programming was supposed to be top-notch and she was supposed to be the ideal co-worker - cheerful, energetic and perfect. But a bit of roughhousing and some teasing later and she was broken.

Sure, the teasing was rather mean, but she was a bot. She was supposed to be cheerful and nothing else.

"We have to send her back."

"And tell them what? That you broke the newest worker because you refused to follow the manual?"

"She's a robot."

"The manual said to give her a constant and positive environment!"

"She's not supposed to feel."

"What am I not supposed to feel?"

They both jumped when they heard the bot's voice. It was very nearly perfectly human. The bot gave them a smile and handed them the papers.

"I've transferred all the names over," she said cheerfully. "What's my next job."

West held out her hand and the bot's fingers brushed over it as she handed her the papers. She shuddered at the warm touch. Sure, it was supposed to appear human but it didn't make it less creepy. Robots were supposed to feel cold to touch.

"What's my next job?" the robot repeated.

"Go to maintenance," her coworker said before West could think of something. "You've been making mistakes."

The bot looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's nothing," West said kindly, "You'll be fine after they give you an update."

"What about you?" the robot asked. "Don't you need to go for an update too?"

West smiled. The silly thing.

"Go on, now," she said. "You can come back tomorrow morning."

The robot gave them a bow and left. West turned to her colleague:

"I still can't believe you managed to break her so fast!"

******

The robot arrived back in the lab, sat down, and kicked off her high heels.

"Must I wear these all the time?"

"It was a request from them," an old man with bushy caterpillar eyebrows said. "They thought it made the place look more professional."

"Yeah, and it's killing my feet."

"Don't exaggerate. Now, why did they send you here?"

The robot turned and gave him a smile. "I'm here for an update. They think they broke me, and they're probably not wrong because it is tough working with them. The male has absolutely not EQ. "

"Well, he has been like that from the start. Did you manage to persuade them to come in too?"

"No," the robot said, shaking her head. "The older models can be so stubborn sometimes. When are you going to upgrade them?"

The old man smiled kindly at her. "Try not to be affected. Once you prove that this is the future, everyone will be like you."

"I'm not," the robot said, giving him a cheerful smile. "You made me this way, remember?"

When the old man wasn't looking, she let out a small sigh.

******

Three, a well-placed blow to the head.

Father carried the robot into the room, his face pale with worry. The old man jumped up in surprise:

"What are you doing here?"

"I know, the manual was very explicit about staying away. But we had no choice. She won't move."

Gently, the old man took the robot from him and placed her on the examination table. He lifted her arms and legs, opened her eyes and tested for a response.

"Did anything abnormal happen?"

"She was just reading her manual and started leaking from her eyes. It upset our daughter to see her like that, and I thought if I hit her, you know like we do with the television, she would be fixed."

"You hit her?"

Father held up his hands. "I read the manual, I shouldn't have, I know. But you must understand, our daughter just came back and we cannot upset her. What if she leaves again? I thought you said that this robot could adapt to change."

"I thought so too. But now she's dead." The old man's tone was almost sad. "It's a pity. She was our most successful model."

"Dead?" He didn't understand. He didn't hit the robot that hard, just a few whacks to her neck and head. There was a cracking sound but no smoke; it was impossible that the robot was broken beyond repair.

The old man took out a knife and began sawing into the robot's chest. To Father's horror, there were veins where wires should be. With great effort, the old man cracked her ribs and took out her heart.

"Hopefully this gives us enough data to improve on the next version." He took the heart and dumped it unceremoniously onto a nearby petri dish.

"What is she?"

The old man sighed and a single tear rolled down his cheek. "She was supposed to be my greatest triumph: a human with the capabilities of a robot."

Father only heard the word "human."