Chapter 1

My adoptive father lured me outside and deliberately threw me in front of a vicious fighting dog.

The dog tore through my nerves. That was when I stopped feeling pain.

After that, I grew even quieter, like a puppet only following orders.

When my real parents finally found me and brought me home, Jessica Carter, who had taken my place over the years, wouldn't let me in. She pressed a fruit knife to her wrist.

"If she comes in, I'll kill myself right here!" she cried.

She was sobbing, but the blade had only scratched the surface.

I walked over, expressionless, and took the knife from her. "Jessica, let me help you," I said.

Then, with precision, I sliced open her artery, and blood gushed out.

Mom and Dad stared at me in unison, terror written all over their faces.

*****

The moment Jessica saw me, she rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a fruit knife.

She pressed the tip of the knife to her wrist, crying her eyes out.

"If she comes in, I'll kill myself right here!" she cried.

"I've been your daughter for 15 years. Why does she get to steal your love just by showing up?" she sobbed.

Mom panicked. "Jessica, put the knife down. We can talk about this."

"What kind of monster is she? Just look at her eyes. They're terrifying!" Jessica cried.

She slashed at her wrist, but it only scratched the surface.

A few drops of blood welled up, and she wailed, "It hurts. I'm bleeding!"

I watched her little act, and a single command echoed in my mind.

It said, "She wants to kill herself."

I walked over mechanically and took the knife from her hand.

"What are you doing?" Jessica's eyes widened in shock.

I didn't say a word. I drew the blade across her wrist, right over the artery. "Jessica, let me help you," I said.

Blood spurted out in an instant, way more than before. It was like a flood.

Jessica shrieked in agony, her scream echoing through the house as she collapsed to the floor, her body wracked with convulsions.

Mom's face turned ghostly white with fear. "Oh my God! Call 911."

Dad rushed over, snatched the knife from my hand, his voice shaking as he demanded, "Elaine, what have you done?"

Unfazed, I answered, "I was following an order."

"What order?" he asked, his voice still shaking.

"Jessica said she wanted to kill herself, so I helped her," I said flatly.

Just then, my brother, Michael Carter, came rushing down the stairs.

He saw Jessica lying in the spreading blood, then turned to me, his eyes blazing with fear and rage.

"You monster!" he shouted, pointing at me.

The sound of ambulance sirens was getting closer, blaring louder with every second.

I stood there, calm and silent, right next to the pool of blood, my hands still smeared with it.

Mom's voice shook as she asked, "Elaine, why would you do this?"

I just kept repeating, "It was an order."

I honestly didn't know what else to say. There was no other explanation.

*****

At the hospital, Jessica was rushed into emergency care.

I was left alone in the hallway outside the ER.

I clutched an old music box in my hand—the only thing I owned.

It was broken, its spring loose, so it could only play a few halting notes.

But I kept winding it again and again, listening to its fractured tune.

Three hours later, the doctor finally came out of the operating room.

"The patient is out of danger, but she lost a lot of blood. She'll need to stay for observation," he said.

Mom let out a sigh of relief and walked over to me.

She stared at my blood-soaked clothes, her face a mix of worry and fear.

"Elaine, let's go home," she said softly.

Back at the house, there were still bloodstains in the living room that hadn't been cleaned up.

Mom told the maid to take care of it, then sat down across from me. "Elaine, tell me, why did you hurt Jessica?"

I looked at her and mechanically repeated, "It was an order."

"Whose order? Who told you to do that?" Mom pressed.

I couldn't answer. I just kept fiddling with the music box in my hands, my head down.

Tears streamed down Mom's face. "Elaine, what has happened to you?"