Chapter 3

The SRO-LPA didn't make Jessica docile. It made her helplessly, comically fixated on being agreeable and socially accepted, but utterly lacking the skills.

Susan, horrified that her favored daughter was now programmed for passivity instead of the sharp, manipulative edge she'd always prized in Jessica, immediately enrolled her in a battery of "Personality Development and Assertiveness Training" courses.

They were a disaster.

In one, Jessica was supposed to practice "constructive confrontation." She ended up agreeing with her role-playing partner so vehemently that she offered to pay for their imaginary grievance.

In another, designed to teach "power posing," she adopted such an exaggeratedly submissive posture that the instructor asked if she needed medical attention.

Mark just wrung his hands and muttered about "wasted potential," though it was never clear whose potential he was actually lamenting.

The family finances, already strained by Susan's expensive tastes, took a nosedive funding Jessica's failed "enhancements."

"She just needs the right motivation," Susan would declare, glaring at me as if I were somehow responsible for Jessica' s SRO-induced ineptitude.

My HPI-LPA, on the other hand, was a source of constant suspicion and pressure.

"You need to contribute," Susan announced one evening, after another disastrous report from Jessica's "Social Graces for Success" workshop. "Your sister needs support."

So, I was forced into a series of dead-end jobs. Barista. Warehouse packer. Data entry clerk.

My paychecks went straight into the black hole of Jessica's "development."

I didn't complain. I smiled, I agreed, I worked.

Inside, the HPI-LPA was a quiet hum, a processor running complex calculations. I was learning, observing, planning.

The real blow came when my acceptance letter to Caltech arrived, complete with a full scholarship for their engineering program.

I'd applied in secret, using a library computer, fueled by lukewarm coffee and sheer desperation.

Susan found the letter before I could hide it.

Her face went pale, then flushed a dangerous red.

"Caltech? Engineering? What on earth are you thinking, Sarah?"

"I want to study sustainable technology," I said, keeping my voice even.

"Absolutely not," Susan snapped. "Your sister needs you here. She's going through a difficult adjustment. You need to stay home and support her."

Jessica, who had been listlessly flipping through a fashion magazine, perked up.

"Yeah, Sarah. Who would make my protein smoothies if you left?" The SRO-LPA made her default to agreeableness, even when it highlighted her own helplessness.

Mark cleared his throat. "Your mother is right, Sarah. Family comes first. This... engineering fancy... it's not practical."

Abandon my scholarship. Abandon my future. For Jessica's non-existent ambitions.

Just like the first time, they were ready to sacrifice me on the altar of Jessica's perceived needs.

"I understand," I said, my voice betraying nothing.

Susan beamed, relieved. "Good girl. I knew you'd see reason."

They thought they had me. Trapped. Compliant.

They had no idea.