Born to Be Erased

Today, a resume landed on my desk.

I stared at the name, Sam Thompson, and tapped a fingertip once against the solid wood desk.

It had been seven years.

The man across from me wore a sharp suit, with a practiced, confident smile fixed on his face. "Miss Selwyn, hello. I'm Sam Thompson, a Tarcona University graduate in computer science. Before this—"

"Sam Thompson?" I cut him off, my voice flat.

"Yes."

I picked up the resume.

In the photo, he wore a graduation gown. His face still looked young, almost exactly like mine had seven years ago.

As I stared at the photo, my thoughts drifted back to that time.

Seven years ago, in that dark, damp cellar…

My mother wiped away her tears and pleaded with me, "Sam, what's the point of a girl studying so much? You'll only end up getting married, having children, and raising them as part of someone else's family.

"Your brother is different. He's the future of the Thompson family. Let him go to college. Besides, your birth certificate has listed you as a boy from the very beginning. It's only right that your brother use it.

"You've always been a tomboy. Who could ever tell you and your brother apart anyway? It makes no difference which of you goes."

…

My mother's words still echoed in my ears.

That was the moment I finally realized I had been nothing more than my brother's steppingstone since the day I was born.

No wonder the gender box on my birth certificate said Male. No wonder my mother had dressed me only in boys' clothes since I was little. No wonder she had never allowed me to tell anyone I was a girl.

"Miss Selwyn?" the man across from me finally called out, pulling me from my thoughts.

I looked up.

I no longer saw Sam Thompson. I saw Cam Thompson, my biological brother, watching me with a smug, self-satisfied smile.

When our eyes met, he chuckled. "Before I came to your company, I already looked into the salary and benefits. I'm satisfied with them. If—"

Before he could finish, I gave him a faint smile. "I'm sorry, but since we suspect your credentials may have been falsified, we won't be extending you an offer."

The office fell silent.

The smile froze on Cam's face.

"What did you just say?" he asked, disbelief thick in his voice.

My assistant, Misha Davis, quietly tugged at my sleeve. "Miss Selwyn, this man really is a Tarcona University graduate. Several companies are already competing to hire him. This interview is just a formality..."

I raised a hand to stop her and kept my eyes on Cam. "There's a problem with your credentials."

Cam shot to his feet, and his chair screeched harshly across the floor.

His face flushed red. "If your company didn't want me, why did you headhunt me? Why bring me here just to humiliate me?

"You say my credentials are falsified, so let me ask you, Miss Taylor Selwyn, what proof do you have? I got into Tarcona University fair and square! What gives you the right to slander me?"

That blustering bravado was exactly the same as when he was a child.

I leaned back in my chair. "I said we suspect they're falsified. That means they need to be verified. We don't hire people whose backgrounds we can't confirm."

"You!" He jabbed a finger at me, nearly shoving it in my face. "So many companies are begging to hire me! And you're just some crappy little company. Who do you think you are, putting on airs with me?"

Misha hurried to smooth things over.

Just then, Cam fixed his eyes on my face and froze.

The anger in his eyes gave way to shock and suspicion. His gaze swept over me from head to toe.

His pupils contracted sharply. Then a contemptuous insult, colored by his thick rural accent, burst from his mouth. "You're... that cheap bitch?!"