Chapter 2

"The vital signs monitor on subject Shelly shows her heart rate has been flatlined for three hours now."

Raven sat on the leather couch, her head tilted down as she scrolled across her tablet.

"Her pseudo-death avoidance mechanism has likely reached its peak."

Her voice was young and crisp, yet carried a chilling, mechanical detachment.

I floated near the ceiling, watching her silently.

My body was lying on the floor of the bedroom, just one door away.

My skin had already turned that purplish color of oxygen deprivation.

"Don't bother with her."

Lance pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"According to biological instinct, when hunger surpasses pride, she'll come out on her own to find food."

He picked up a silver knife and precisely cut the Black Forest cake in front of him into a perfect wedge.

"Low-cognition individuals have very poor endurance. We already proved that in the dehydration trial."

Mom, Maggie, took the cake with a face full of pride, smiling so wide that fine lines appeared at the corners of her eyes.

"Here, Lance, eat more."

"Congratulations on winning first place in the national physics competition again!"

"Thanks, Mom."

Lance accepted the plate with elegant manners.

Dad, Carter, raised his wine glass, the red wine swirling in the crystal stem.

"Our family genes are simply superior. Raven won the Psychology Innovation Award last month too. Double celebration!"

The four of them clinked glasses, the crisp sound of glass echoing through the living room.

Bright lights. A warm, joyful family scene.

I looked down at my own translucent hand.

Just three hours earlier, I had been writhing in agony on the floor as my asthma attack hit.

I'd desperately pumped that inhaler—only to spray nothing but useless saline.

I bit through the mouthpiece. Blood and salt water trickled down my throat.

I clawed at the wooden floor until streaks of blood marked the wood.

But outside my door, they were busy discussing topics for their next journal publication.

"How come Shelly hasn't left her room all day?"

Mom swallowed a bite of cream, as if suddenly remembering there was a fifth person in this house.

Dad waved his hand with a chuckle.

"That kid ranked last in her exams again. Probably too ashamed to show her face."

He took another sip of wine.

"Let her sit there and reflect on it."

I let out a bitter laugh.

I came last in those exams because the day before, Lance had locked me in an abandoned factory for twenty-four hours.

The dehydration shock had left me too weak to even hold a pen.

"Honestly, aside from being slow, Shelly has always been a sweet kid."

Mom sighed and placed the biggest piece of strawberry cake onto a clean plate.

"I'll go check on her. Don't want her to actually starve."

She stood up and started walking toward my room.

Floating in midair, I felt a ridiculous flicker of hope.

Open the door, Mom.

Open it, and you'll see just how ugly your obedient daughter looks in death.

"Mom, wait."

Raven suddenly spoke up, grabbing Mom's wrist.

"What is it, Raven?"

"The intervention experiment is at a critical stage."

Raven pointed to the data curve on her tablet.

"If you go in now, you'll ruin the final data on the placebo effect."

She tilted her head up, her expression dead serious.

"This is a joint paper Lance and I are submitting to SCI journals. Disrupting the experiment process would count as academic misconduct, you know."

Mom froze at the words "academic misconduct" and instinctively pulled her hand back.

Lance slowly dabbed the corner of his mouth.

"Scientific progress always requires sacrifice."

Dad nodded in approval and patted Mom on the shoulder.

"Lance is right. It's called putting resources to good use."

"Set the cake down. Don't spoil her."

Mom hesitated, glanced at the strawberry cake in her hand, then finally placed the plate on the table.

I stared at that strawberry cake, watching the cream slowly melt.

Just like every illusion I'd ever held about this family.

"As if she hasn't faked being sick enough times before?"

Dad scoffed.

"Last time, when Raven cut up her college diploma, she sat in her room shaking, playing the victim."