Chapter 2

I went into my bedroom to get a change of clothes. The moment I turned on the light, I froze.

Dozens of storage boxes were tightly packed across the bed and blocking the walkway. My trophies and books were gone from the bookshelf, replaced by Mauro's model airplanes.

When I opened the closet, it was filled with Shelly's seasonal clothes. I turned around and went back to the living room.

"Where are my things?" I asked.

"They were just taking up space, so I threw them out," Sandy said casually. "Shel and Mau have too much stuff to fit in their own rooms. So, I told them to clear out the things they don't use often and put them in your room. Anyway, you're rarely home, so the room was just sitting empty."

I looked at her. "Then where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Just move the boxes from the bed to the utility closet," Michael chimed in without even looking up from his phone. "Do I have to explain everything?"

I walked over to the utility closet and found it was mostly empty. By the time I finished hauling every box out of my room, I was drenched in sweat again.

When I sat down to catch my breath, Michael frowned. "Why aren't you showering yet?"

"The bathroom's occupied."

"Shel and Mau know how to schedule their time. You're the only one who always waits until everyone else is done."

Too exhausted to argue, I tilted my head back, drank a glass of cold water, and waited another hour before it was finally my turn.

The bathroom was still thick with steam, and the trapped heat made me feel dizzy the moment I stepped inside.

Sandy knocked sharply on the door and called out, "Wash yourself properly. Don't bring those bad habits you picked up in the countryside into this house."

The shower poured down like heavy rain across my face. I wiped the water from my eyes, unable to tell if it was the spray or my own tears.

When I was first brought back home, the unspoken rule was that I could only shower after Shelly was finished. Back then, the apartment used an electric water heater; by the time she stepped out, the hot water was always long gone.

I just had to make do with a cold rinse.

I remembered a family gathering back then. My aunt pinched my ear in front of everyone and laughed, "Look at this girl! There is dirt behind her ears. Don't you know how to scrub?"

Sandy's face darkened as she slammed her fork on the table. "She learned it all from her grandmother. Her hygiene habits are terrible."

But my grandmother had never taught me to be dirty. She was just old, and her eyesight was failing, leaving her with barely enough energy to look after me.

And Sandy hadn't taught me either. She was always too busy drawing baths for Shelly to notice me.

That night, Sandy dragged me into the bathroom, turned on the hot water, and scrubbed me herself. I flinched from the heat. "Mom, it's too hot!"

My crying only made her angrier, and she scrubbed harder with the washcloth. "Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me? So dirty! You don't look like my daughter at all!"

Ever since that night, every time I showered, I made sure to scrub myself from head to toe until my skin turned bright red. Only then did I feel safe.

But she never noticed.

...

When I came out of the bathroom, Michael spoke in a low voice. "Shel and Mau are already asleep. Don't use the hair dryer; it's too loud."

I nodded silently and dried my hair as best as I could with a towel. Then I sat down at my laptop and opened the university application portal.

Cold water from my hair dripped onto the back of my hand, sending a shiver through me.

The instructions stated that tonight was the final deadline for submission, and departure was only two weeks away. My cursor hovered over the confidentiality agreement.

[During the project, the participant will enter absolute isolation. All external communication, including contact with family, will be cut off.]

Without hesitating, I clicked Submit.

The next morning, I printed the required consent form and took it to my parents for their signatures.

Michael was watching the morning news. "Take it to your mom. Can't you see I'm busy?"

Sandy was checking Mauro's summer homework. It was just elementary school math, but she held a pen and reviewed every line with total focus.

I slid the consent form over the workbook. Without scanning a word, she carelessly scrawled her name.

"Aren't you going to read it?" I asked.

"No need," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "It's not like you have anything important going on anyway."

Shelly was chatting with her classmates on her phone, and Mauro was still fast asleep. No one in this house knew I was about to drop off the face of the earth.

And no one cared.