My Father's Last Equation, Me = 0

Synopsis

When the earthquake hit, we were trapped under the rubble. My father's adopted daughter, Joanna Foster, and I, Hannah Foster, both cried out to Dad for help. An aftershock was coming, and there was only enough time to save one person. Ever the mathematician, my dad, Richard Foster, calmly pulled two slips of paper from his pocket. "You are both precious to me," he said. "To be fair, we'll draw lots to decide who lives and who stays. Whoever draws red lives; whoever draws white stays." Trembling, I took a slip of paper and unfolded it. It was white. Joanna sobbed as she unfolded hers. It was red. Dad sighed, giving me a complicated look. "Hannah, it's fate," he said. "Don't blame me." Then, without a moment's hesitation, he scooped Joanna up and rushed toward the exit. Only after they were gone did I stare down at the paper I was still clutching in my sweaty hand. In the faint glow of my phone, I flipped it over and saw a smudge of red ink on the back. Both slips of paper had originally been red. But the moment Dad handed mine to me, he'd used a sleight of hand to swap it for a pre-prepared white one. He wasn't trying to be fair. He just wanted an excuse to abandon me. The concrete slab above me began to crack, sending dust raining down into the space around me. I didn't cry. I simply laughed softly into the dark. "System, are you still there?" I asked. The electronic voice that had vanished five years ago responded instantly, sounding urgent. [Yes, Hannah. Don't be afraid. The teleportation channel has been activated. This time, I'm really taking you home. [Countdown: 3, 2, 1.]