Chapter 3

The speakers blared to life, filling the air with growling, snarling, and the scrape of claws against metal, all of it piled on top of each other in a way that made everyone's skin crawl.

It was probably some kind of custom sound effect my parents had paid good money to have made. Even out here on the sunlit lawn, it was enough to set anyone's nerves on edge.

The guests shifted uneasily in their chairs. A few of the women clapped their hands over their ears.

"That's incredibly realistic. You've got some serious equipment here, Mr. Sands." The bald man let out a dry laugh, covering up his discomfort.

On screen, the image started shaking violently, a simulation of something slamming into the walls. Dad stood over the monitor, brow creasing as he watched. The thin figure curled up in the corner didn't move, not a single flinch.

"Something's off," Dad muttered, more to himself than anyone, his fingers tapping rapidly across the control panel.

"The adrenaline should be spiking right now. She should be jumping up, looking for something to fight with, or pounding on the door. Why isn't she reacting at all?"

He cranked the volume all the way up. The slamming sounds hit like a battering ram, loud enough to rattle something deep in their chests.

Even Max tucked his tail and scrambled under the table. On screen, though, the girl didn't move. No one could even tell she was breathing.

Mom frowned at the screen. "Is she doing this on purpose? Is she trying to spite us?"

She turned to Dad, her voice sharp. "Did you push too hard last time? Maybe you made her think there's no point anymore."

Dad shook his head, looking genuinely stumped. "That can't be it. Self-preservation is instinct. Unless..."

He trailed off, something flickering across his face, then dismissed it just as quickly. "Could it be the starvation? If she's been going without for this long, her body might have shut down into a kind of hibernation state to conserve energy."

Mom nodded slowly, accepting that. "This kid is sharper than we gave her credit for. She knows that moving around right now would just burn through what little energy she has left, so she's playing dead to avoid the fear.

"Her mental resilience might actually be higher than we estimated."

Even now, they were still using their ridiculous theories to explain away my death. It never once crossed their minds that I might actually be gone.

To them, I was something unbreakable, a toy they could toss around, and it would always bounce right back.

The guests relaxed at that, letting out relieved sighs, nodding along.

"Well, she is a professor's daughter after all. Cool as a cucumber under pressure. That young lady is going to go far someday."

Dad soaked in the praise, though something still nagged at him. He had put together a whole grand finale, but the star of the show wasn't playing along. That made him look bad in front of everyone.

"Looks like we'll need a hands-on demonstration." He stood, straightened his collar, and spread his arms out to the group with an easy smile.

"Since watching from here isn't getting us anywhere, why don't I take you all down for a close-up look? See this hibernation state for yourselves."

A ripple of excitement went through the crowd. This was so much more thrilling than just sitting here staring at a screen.

"Let's go, let's go. I want to see this legendary underground bunker for myself." The bald man was already on his feet, leading the charge.

I threw myself in front of them, arms spread wide, blocking the path.

"Don't go. Please. Just leave me some dignity. Don't look at me like that! Don't look at what's down there!"

That was my body down there, the most wretched, humiliated, broken version of me imaginable. I didn't want to become cocktail conversation, and I didn't want them crowding around my corpse and picking apart every detail.

None of it mattered. They walked right through me, laughing and chatting, heading toward the back of the garden where a cluster of decorative rocks sat behind a low wall. Tucked behind them was an entrance, camouflaged so well that anyone could walk right past it without a second glance.

Dad led the way, punching a code into a panel on the rock face. A low rumble vibrated through the ground, and the rock slid open to reveal a heavy steel door, thick aindustrial-lookinging.

"This door is rated for the highest blast resistance out there," Dad said as he walked through, one hand slapping proudly against the metal.

"This could withstand a nuclear blast if it had to. Even if something truly catastrophic happened out there, this place would hold."

Sure, it was absolutely safe. Solid enough to keep out any monster from the outside world. Solid enough to lock a living person inside until she became a ghost.