Chapter 3

"Did you put her documents away safely?"

"Yes, all locked up."

"Good. She can't be allowed to change that application."

That was Mom and Dad.

Celeste's voice came next, hesitant.

"But this isn't fair to Gay…"

"Fair? We raised her for eighteen years, fed her, clothed her, and now it's a problem to ask her to give something back to this family?"

Mom paused, and her worked-up tone softened into concern.

"You're due any day now, work runs you ragged, your in-laws died in the line of duty, and your husband's stationed at a classified agency. If she doesn't help raise the baby, then who?"

Dad's voice went gentle too.

"Celeste, you have a real future ahead of you. Go chase it. Your mother and I will keep the home together for you."

"Gay may be adopted, but she's still family. With her helping you, we can rest easy."

Celeste was quiet for a few seconds.

"But… is Gay willing?"

Mom laughed, and it was the laugh of someone who found it all perfectly obvious.

"We just won't ask her! When has that girl ever had a mind of her own?"

Then she shifted, dropping her voice.

"And don't you dare say the word 'adopted' in front of her. That stays buried."

Celeste lowered her voice too.

"Mom, she is Mr. Henson's daughter, after all… her father saved our whole family."

For a moment, Mom and Dad went silent.

"Her father was a firefighter. Saving people was his job."

"And besides, haven't we been good enough to her these eighteen years?"

"We never let her go without, never forced her into anything. Go ask around. Where else will you find parents as good as us?"

My heart was pounding.

In my last life, I heard only those two words, "adopted," and then I died. I never knew a thing about my birth parents.

I made myself calm and typed the keywords into my phone. A local news forum came up.

"Catastrophic fire at Southgate Mall. Firefighter Elijah Henson re-entered the blaze twice and died. The infant in his wife Glenda Fletcher's arms survived by a miracle…"

There were comments under the post.

"Elijah Henson saved a family of three first, and only then went back for his own wife and child. So heartbreaking. The fire was too much. Both of them gone…"

"That baby was only five or six months old. Losing both parents so young. It's tragic."

"I heard that family of three later adopted Elijah Henson's daughter. Repaying the debt, I suppose…"

There was a photo attached too.

It was Rudolph Powell, Ellie Weiss, and Celeste, the three of them.

I'd seen the family portrait they'd taken. It was exactly the same.

So my real name was Gay Henson.

It was only after the Powells adopted me that I became Gay Powell.

Once I'd steadied myself, I went inside.

Mom had already laid out a full table of food.

"Gay, come eat. I made your favorite, sweet-and-sour fish."

Dad took a drink out of the fridge.

"Cold orange juice for you. Let me pour it."

They were all smiles, as if none of it had happened.

I walked over.

The table was covered with the dishes I loved best, sweet-and-sour fish, braised pork, buttered shrimp…

I glanced at Celeste.

In front of her was a low-sugar meal, dietary and joyless. She had no appetite for it.

Mom smiled.

"Gay's the treasure of this house, so she gets the good food. Poor Celeste has to go without."

The old me would have thought my parents were playing favorites again.

But I knew now. Celeste's blood sugar was high, and the doctor had put her on a strict low-sugar diet.

It wasn't that my parents didn't love her. They loved her, and on top of it they were building her a reputation as the one who "goes without."

I ate that meal without tasting a thing.

While they were clearing up in the dining room, I went into my room to find my documents.

Sure enough, the ID card and admission ticket that used to be in the drawer were gone.

And in my parents' bedroom, the drawer that always stood open now had a lock on it.

I said nothing. I just made up an excuse and left the house.

At the admissions office, the staff looked at the screenshots of my digital ID card and admission ticket, ran a facial-recognition check, and reset my password for me.

Right there, I changed my application back to the directed-enrollment military academy in the early associate-track round.

At the same time, I changed the mailing address for my acceptance letter to the school.

Everything was in order. Now I only had to wait for the acceptance.

This time, I was leaving.

Leaving far away.

And never coming back.