Chapter 2

I remembered everything.

The system was their secret weapon, activated by my parents.

A small, barely visible red dot on my wrist, and one on Brittany' s, marked us.

Karen was the wielder. She could initiate transfers.

But transfers required consent from both parties. That' s how they' d always gotten me.

"It's for the family, Sarah."

"Brittany needs this more."

"Don't be selfish."

I always caved. My good grades became hers. My artistic talent, hers. My robust health, shoring up her delicate constitution.

They told me the PSAT scores were just practice, that my high score didn't really matter if Brittany did well too.

So I agreed to "share" it. Before, I hadn't known it was a literal theft.

Now I knew that PSAT score was already Brittany's, a prelude to the SAT theft that would have sealed my fate again.

There was another rule, one Karen never mentioned.

A "forced swap."

It could be done, but it came with severe consequences for the user. For Karen.

A consequence she' d clearly avoided by manipulating my consent.

Until my health. Perhaps she grew desperate then, or thought I was too weak to refuse. Or maybe that final swap had a hidden consent I couldn't recall.

No, her words were clear: "The system needed your health." It sounded forced.

The red dot on my left wrist throbbed faintly. It was real.

I got out of bed, a plan already forming.

Downstairs, Karen was in the kitchen, humming. Brittany was scrolling through her phone at the table, already made up perfectly.

"Sarah, darling," Karen said, her voice syrupy sweet. It always was before she wanted something.

"Morning," I replied, my voice carefully neutral.

Brittany didn' t even look up. "Mom, my TikTok views are insane from that 'study motivation' video. People really think I'm a genius."

Karen beamed. "Of course, they do, sweetie. You are."

Then Karen turned to me. "Sarah, about the SATs next month. You know, Brittany gets so stressed with these big tests."

Here it comes, I thought.

"Hypothetically," Karen continued, "if you did really well, and Brittany, well, if she had an off day... would you be willing to help your sister out? Just to ensure she gets the score she deserves for a top university?"

The exact same words. The exact same manipulative request.

The red dot on her wrist seemed to glow a little brighter in my mind.