The word hung in the air like smoke from a shorted capacitor. Elena had seen the forum posts. The keygens with their chiptune soundtracks. The patched .exe files that promised “full enterprise features, forever.” It was a ghost in the machine, an easy escape.

And she never forgot the lesson that the Eagle CAD license had taught her: that the most important boundaries aren’t the layers of copper on a board, but the ones you refuse to cross inside your own head.

She wasn’t afraid of Autodesk’s lawyers. She was afraid of the principle. The drone she was building was for medical delivery—blood samples from rural clinics to city labs. If she built it on a cracked foundation, what would that say about her? About the device?