Chapter 3

3

Two weeks passed, and Elena’s visits became more frequent.

She came to my room once a day, always with an excuse.

She’d say she was checking on me, or that Mom sent her, or that she was just bored.

But every single time, she did something “small.”

The first time, she put a glass of orange juice on my nightstand.

But she placed it only an inch from the edge.

If I were actually blind, I would have knocked it over and soaked myself the moment I reached for it.

I “searched” for the glass with my hand, pretending not to find it.

“Sis, where’s the juice?”

She walked over and “helped” me move it further back.

“Here it is. I’ve got it for you.”

I “found” the glass, took a sip, and thanked her.

The second time happened while I was showering.

Our bathroom has a simple sliding door that doesn't lock.

Halfway through my shower, I heard the door slide open just a crack.

I didn't move. I kept washing.

Then I heard a sound―the faint hum of electricity.

It was a hairdryer.

But I hadn't turned one on. Mine was in my bedroom.

The sound was coming from the doorway.

I took a deep breath and suddenly turned my head, acting like I had heard a noise.

I frowned toward the door and shouted, “Mom?”

The humming stopped instantly.

After a long silence, Elena’s voice came through, sounding forced and lazy.

“It’s nothing. I just needed to borrow something.”

“What is it?”

“Never mind. Check your own closet later.” The door clicked shut.

I finished my shower.

The water was hot, but I felt a chill running down my spine.

I knew exactly what would have happened if that hairdryer had touched the water.

That night, the voice in my head spoke again：

“Gen-2 deployment time：T-minus 14 days.”

I didn't understand the phrase.

I asked my mind：What is Gen-2?

This time, the voice actually answered. It was only one sentence, but I replayed it a thousand times.

“You are not their son. You are a Gen-1 product they ordered.”