Chapter 1
Just because I wouldn't forgive my dad for cheating, he teamed up with my mom and shipped me off to the New Life Reform School.
They said I was too much, too stubborn, and needed to be "fixed."
Three years later, I came back, playing the perfect daughter.
I never mentioned my dad's affair again. Every day, I smiled at him, made sure his briefcase was packed, and had his slippers waiting when he got home.
My dad was satisfied, saying I'd finally grown up and learned to put the family first.
My mom hugged me, crying as she said, "Good girl, this is how it should be. When the family's at peace, everything else falls into place."
But then, my dad got swept up in a high-profile wrongful conviction case that made headlines nationwide. Every shred of evidence pointed straight at him.
As his only character witness, I took the stand.
With all eyes on me, I calmly handed over new evidence that would seal his fate once and for all.
"Your Honor, I can prove that my father, Zack Martin, is guilty," I said.
*****
The day I walked out of New Life Reform School, the sky was heavy and overcast.
My dad, Zack, the well-respected prosecutor, was waiting by a sleek black sedan.
Three years had gone by; his hair at the temples had grayed, but that righteous aura about him hadn't faded one bit.
My mom, Lydia, clung to his arm. As soon as she saw me, her eyes welled up with tears.
She rushed over and hugged me so tightly that I could barely breathe.
She said, "Sunny, my good girl, you're finally back.
"I missed you so much."
I let her hold me, my body stiff, not returning the hug.
Three years. 1,095 days of electroshock therapy, solitary confinement, and forced meds. She never visited. Not once.
Seeing her play the doting mom now was just a joke.
Zack walked over and gave my mom a reassuring pat on the back.
"Alright, she just got out. Don't scare her," he said.
He looked me up and down, his eyes cold and calculating, like he was sizing me up to see if I was up to standard.
"Sunny, did you get your head straight while you were in there?" he asked.
I looked up at him, giving the perfectly practiced, submissive smile.
I said, "I understand now, Dad.
"I was immature and too extreme before. I made things difficult for you and Mom."
Zack nodded, a rare trace of fatherly warmth softening his features.
He said, "Good, as long as you've got it all sorted. You've grown up.
"Come on, let's go home. Your mom's made some soup for you."
The car glided smoothly into the upscale neighborhood.
Our house was just as I remembered: spotless, polished, and picture-perfect.
It felt like those three years I'd been gone were nothing but a dream, unreal and forgotten.
I slipped into the slippers my mom had laid out for me and sat quietly on the couch, playing the part of the perfect daughter.
My mom came over with a bowl of soup, watching me expectantly.
She said, "Come on, have a taste. It's your favorite soup. I spent the whole afternoon making it."
I picked up the spoon and took a sip.
The soup was fragrant and rich.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't taste anything at all.
"It's good," I said.
My mom finally smiled, the lines at the corners of her eyes softening.
She said, "That's great. I'll make it for you every day from now on."
Zack sat in the armchair, flipping through a file, not even bothering to look up as he asked, "Did anyone give you a hard time in there?"
"No, the teachers and students were all really nice to me," I replied.
"That's good," he said.
His question was casual, almost indifferent, like he was just checking if his product had come back without any defects.
After dinner, my mom led me back to my room.
My room was spotless: pink princess bed, stuffed animals lined up along the walls, everything exactly as I remembered from before I left.
My mom said, "See? I saved it all for you.
"Every day while you were away, I came in to tidy up."
She rambled on, trying to create a warm, loving atmosphere.
I walked over to the desk and pulled open the drawer.
There was the voice recorder Zack gave me for my sixteenth birthday, just sitting there, untouched.
He said he hoped I'd use it to record all the beautiful memories from my teenage years.
But later, I used it to record the shameful conversation he had with that woman in his office.
I took the recorder and confronted him, my hands shaking with anger and disbelief.
That very afternoon, I was sent off to New Life Reform School.
My mom kept going, "Sunny, just let it go. The past is over.
"Your dad did what he did for you, for our family.
"Look, everything's okay now, isn't it?"
I turned around and smiled at her.
I said, "Mom, I know.
"I'm tired. I want to rest."
She froze for a second, then finally smiled, looking relieved.
She said, "Alright, get some rest."
The door clicked shut behind her.
I was alone in the room.
I gripped the cold voice recorder, my smile fading inch by inch.
Yeah, everything was just perfect now. Perfect enough for me to start my reckoning.
That night, I heard muffled voices drifting from the master bedroom.
My mom said, "See? I told you it would work. Look at Sunny now. She's so well-behaved, like a little doll."
"Yeah, at least all that effort wasn't for nothing. A doll is better than a ticking time bomb," Zack said, his voice cold.
I lay there in the dark; sleep was out of the question.
A doll?
'Yeah, that was what I was now: a doll with no feelings, no pain, just programmed to obey.
Just a doll, built for revenge.