Chapter 4

My mother straightened up, her professional focus returning. "Anything else?"

The assistant hesitated. "Dr. Ochoa... we did find something. During the internal exam. Lodged in the esophagus."

He held up a small, clear bag. Inside was a tiny object, dark and misshapen.

"What is that?" my mother asked, leaning in.

"It looks like a microchip. The kind they use for pets. It's been partially crushed, but we might be able to get something from it."

My mother stared at the bag, her expression unreadable. "He made her swallow it. Why?"

"To send a message? To leave a clue he knew we'd find?" the assistant offered.

"Get it to the lab. I want to know everything they can pull from it. Now," she commanded.

As the assistant hurried away, her phone buzzed. The caller ID read 'Charlotte.' My older sister.

My mother' s face tightened, but she answered, forcing a warmth into her voice that wasn't there a moment ago.

"Charlotte, honey. How are your classes?"

I could almost hear Charlotte's frantic voice on the other end, a thousand miles away at her university. I could feel her worry like a physical presence. She was the only one who ever really saw me.

"I can't reach her, Mom! Her phone goes straight to voicemail. I have a bad feeling. Something is wrong."

My mother's forced patience began to crack. "Charlotte, you are overreacting. Your sister is perfectly fine. She is being a teenager. This is what she does. She creates drama to get attention."

"But it's been days! It's not like her to just vanish!"

"It is exactly like her," my father's voice cut in. He must have taken the phone from my mother. His tone was sharp, dismissive. "She will show up when her little tantrum is over. Now, I need you to focus on your midterms, not on Kelsie's latest stunt. We are handling it."

He was lying. They weren't handling it. They weren't even looking.

"But Dad-"

"Enough, Charlotte. Do not make this a bigger deal than it is. We will call you when we hear from her."

The line went dead. He had hung up on her.

I imagined Charlotte on the other end, staring at her phone in disbelief, her heart pounding with a fear my parents refused to acknowledge. She was alone in her worry. I was alone in my death.

My mother sighed, rubbing her temples. "She means well."

"She enables her," my father countered. "They both need to understand that this family has rules. Kelsie broke them. There are consequences."

Consequences. I floated in the cold morgue, a silent testament to consequences they couldn't begin to imagine.

I was an Ochoa. That was my name. But it never felt like it belonged to me. It felt borrowed, a costume I was forced to wear. After I was found and brought back, the name felt heavier. It came with expectations I could never meet. Be smart like Charlotte. Be charming like Javon. Be successful like your father. Be perfect like your mother.

I was none of those things. I was quiet. I was introverted. I was a girl who liked cheap lockets and stray dogs.

My parents had one daughter in their hearts. Her name was Charlotte. And they had a son. His name was Javon.

I was just... Kelsie. The problem. The afterthought.

And now, I was the victim. Jane Doe.

The truth was lying on a cold steel table in front of them, and they were blind to it. Blinded by their ambition, their pride, and their love for the son who had orchestrated my end.

But the truth has a way of coming out. It was lodged in my throat. It was on the security tapes. It was waiting in a filthy warehouse across town.

And when it came out, it wouldn't just be a problem for them.

It would be their destruction.