Chapter 1

I was six years old the day I met my mother for the first time.

After Grandma passed away, Mom pulled up to the cottage in a sleek sedan.

A little girl in a fluffy pink dress sat in the backseat.

That was Lily Paul, my twin sister.

Mom led me inside her sparkling townhouse and pointed to a low wooden stool in the corner.

"Stand right there," she said. "Don't move. Don't trace dirt onto my clean floors."

I stared down at my faded canvas shoes. My knuckles turned white against my frayed pants.

It was our sixth birthday.

A tiered velvet cake sat on the dining table, stuck with six pink candles.

Dad walked in carrying heavy shopping bags. He pulled out a lace-trimmed dress and handed it to Lily.

Lily clapped and twirled across the rug.

I wanted a new dress too.

All my clothes had been hand-me-downs from nearby farms, covered in rough patches over the elbows and knees.

I crept over to the glass table. My hand trembled as I touched a white cotton dress tucked inside the bag.

Slap!

A stinging blow cracked against the back of my hand.

Mom rushed over and shoved me hard. I hit the floor.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she barked. "That's Lily's extra outfit! Country kids really have no manners. You barely step inside, and you're already stealing from your sister!"

Her sharp voice echoed off the high walls.

Lily peeked out from behind Dad's legs, watching me.

Then, a metallic clicking noise rang directly inside my skull.

Tick, clack. Tick, clack.

A cold, mechanical voice echoed deep in my mind.

[Hostile bond detected. Mother’s affection rating: minus 10.]

[Warning: Affection too low. Mother is considering surrendering host to state foster care.]

[Exchange system active. Host life span can be traded for affection points. Current rate: 1 year of life for 1 point of affection.]

[Host remaining life span: 72 years. Initiate transfer?]

I sat on the cold floor. My hand burned where she struck me.

I couldn't go to foster care.

The old woman back home said kids without parents get locked away, starved, and forgotten.

Grandma had held my hand on her deathbed. She begged me to obey my mother, to stay close to her no matter what.

I cried out in my mind without hesitation.

Yes! Take it!

[10 years deducted. 10 affection points added. Current rating: 0.]

[Host remaining life span: 62 years.]

The clicking stopped.

The anger on Mom’s face abruptly froze.

Her scowl softened. Her raised arm dropped to her side.

She walked closer, reached down, and patted my head.

"Whatever. It's your birthday too, so I won't yell.

"Just be a good girl. Don't fight your sister for her clothes, and I won't send you away."

It was the first time she had ever touched me.

Her palm was soft. She smelled faintly of sweet soap.

She didn't love me yet; she just didn't hate me anymore, but my heart soared.

I scrambled up, folded the white dress neatly, and slid it back into the paper bag.

I stood in the dark hallway, watching Mom and Dad light the candles for Lily. They sang to her.

Lily blew out the flames. Mom handed her the biggest slice of cake, topped with a bright red strawberry.

My plate held only a dry crumb slice from the back corner, smeared with candle wax.

I cradled the small plate, eating slowly, licking off every last bit of frosting.

Ten years of my life to stay with Mom.

Ten years for one gentle stroke of my hair.

It was worth every second.