Chapter 3

"Next, we'll go live to the site and have a livestream," my mom announced.

She swept her hand through the air, and the image on the screen changed. The edited footage stopped playing, replaced by a live surveillance feed.

A vast snow field filled the screen. As the wind howled, it whipped up loose snow from the ground. It was the wilderness section of the film set, where I had collapsed.

The audience off-stage held their breath, waiting to see something shocking. Perhaps they expected to see me robbing people in a frenzy or screaming hysterically.

My mom held the microphone, a confident smile on her face. "According to our tracking system, our test subject Evan Howard should now be on his way to the Lord's manor to beg for food. We've instructed the actors to refuse him and humiliate him."

"Our model predicts that he should be overcome with rage by now. He may even pick up a weapon and attack the actors. That will be the perfect conclusion to our experiment, irrefutable proof that poverty causes violence."

The image shifted as the drone camera searched the snowstorm for my small, thin figure.

I floated in front of the screen, looking at the familiar snowy landscape. I knew they would never find the violent thug they expected… Because I was already dead. There I lay beneath that dead old oak tree, discarded by the world like a piece of trash.

"Huh? Why haven't we found him yet?" Dad frowned and checked his tablet. "The tracker says he's right around here."

He picked up a radio and called the crew at the site. "All teams, confirm the subject's location and get him on camera."

The image shook a few times as the drone descended.

Finally.

An obvious patch of non-white appeared in the lower right corner of the screen. It was an old dark coat, padded with cotton and covered in patches. It was the only thing I had to protect me from the cold.

"Found him!" My mom pointed excitedly at the screen. "Everyone, look! He's lying right there! He may be faking an injury to demand money or putting on an act now that he's exhausted. Let's zoom in and look at his expression. I'm certain we'll see a face full of resentment and bitterness!"

The camera zoomed in rapidly. The sharp 4K footage revealed every detail in the snow.

I was curled up at the roots of the tree, my body already stiff. A thin layer of white frost covered my face. My eyes were partly open, and ice crystals clung to my eyelashes. There was no resentment nor greed on that face of green and blue. There was only an almost empty calm…

And a stubborn determination that had not disappeared, even in death.

My hands were crossed tightly over my chest, as though I were guarding some priceless treasure.

"What's he holding?" Someone in the audience asked curiously.

My mom paused, seemingly surprised as well. "Stolen gold or silver jewelry, perhaps? Or a purse he snatched? If so, even better. People will die for money. That's human greed for you!"

She gave an excited order. "The mechanical arm! Use the drone's arm to pull his hands apart! Let's see what evidence of his crimes he was protecting with his last breath!"

On the screen, the drone extended a cold metal claw. It slowly approached my body, and the gleaming metal stood out in contrast to my frozen skin. Floating in midair, I instinctively wanted to rush forward and stop it.

"Don't touch me!"

"Don't touch my bread!"

"It's for my mother!"

But my soul passed straight through the screen. I could do nothing. All I could do was watch as the metal claw roughly pried apart my stiff fingers.

Crack.

My fingers were frozen so hard that they made a sharp cracking sound, as if they had been snapped.

Mom and Dad watched with expectant smiles. Ethan toyed with his watch and glanced up without much interest.

Everyone assumed that whatever I had hidden against my chest would reveal the worst of human nature.

It had to be stolen goods.

As my hands were forced apart... The thing I had kept warm with my body was finally revealed.

It tumbled out.

It rolled into the snow.

It was not gold or jewels.

Not a bag of money.

It was something dark and hard, covered in a dog's tooth marks...

Half a roll of bread made from mixed grains.