"My father?" I arched my eyebrows. "Do you think I am honestly going to buy that bullshit?" Martha's heart beat so fast that I could hear it. I needed to calm down. I clenched my hands so tight I could feel my nails digging into them. "I don't want to do this, Ma. Can I just go to school? I am late." Those were my final words. I grabbed my spectacles and cane. "Will that be all?" Martha looked at me, and I could tell that she didn't understand me. I was slowly turning into something else now. Maybe the system was grooming me for what was to come, but I knew I was not the same after I was blindfolded. All thanks to Jeremiah anyways. I could smell the morning coffee my mother had made for me. I looked over at the tables as I walked down the stairs. "Would you like to take some? I prepared it just the way you liked it." She said slowly, trying not to get on my nerves. "I am fine, Mum. I don't want it." I grabbed my backpack and walked out only to be greeted by a chau

The next question cut through the buzz like a knife. Max's voice was steady, but every word landed hard. “Did you have a hand in blindfolding Mr. Pointus?” he asked. For a moment the world stopped. The flashes of the cameras seemed louder, and even the wind held its breath. Jeremiah’s face changed. I could feel it — a tiny tremor in the way his jaw worked, the shallow quickening of his breath. My heart beat in my ears. I wanted him to break. I wanted him to say something—anything—that would make me feel the flood of satisfaction that had been building inside me for months. The reporters swarmed. Mics thrust forward, recorders clicked, and phones rose like a wall of small, shining suns. Jeremiah stepped back, eyes narrowing as if trying to place Max in some line of sight he could not reach. I could hear the faint beating of his heart now; it sounded different to me than it had before. He was scared, and for a second I felt a small, ugly pleasure. It had been a long time since

[ Ah! ]I let out a shout as I got up from the bed. The system woke me up before my eyes even opened. My body jerked like someone had poured cold water on me. My head throbbed, and my chest felt heavy. I gasped for air and sat up fast, my eyes darting around.I wasn’t in my room.The first thing I noticed was the smell—clean, too clean, like disinfectant and metal mixed together. The second thing I noticed was that my walking staff was gone. My heart raced. Whoever had brought me here knew exactly what they were doing.I rubbed my temples, trying to remember what happened. The car. The gas. The dizziness. Then—nothing.My phone lay beside me on the small table. I grabbed it quickly, but the screen stayed dark. Battery dead. Of course.“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath.The room was quiet. Too quiet. I looked around again. White walls. No windows. Just one door. The bed I sat on looked simple—metal frame, thin mattress, white sheets. The kind you’d find in a hospital or a lab.Som