Chapter 2

The studio went silent.

Several seconds later, Mother added slowly, “Of course, the actual answer is Artificial Intelligence. I was careless just now.”

But the round was over. The one million dollars would not return simply because she had finally spoken the correct words.

Pain tore through my chest. I curled forward as the cardiac monitor sounded an urgent alarm. A doctor rushed to inspect the readings while the nurse held my hand and told me to stay awake.

On the screen, Ethan lunged toward Mother.

“What are you doing? You knew the answer. Chloe could die because you threw away that money.”

Mother did not answer him. Instead, she pointed toward the screen behind her.

“Do you see how much pain she’s in?”

Ethan stared at her: “You know she’s suffering, and you still answered incorrectly on purpose?”

“I made a mistake,” Mother said, as composed as ever. “People make careless mistakes under pressure. That is perfectly normal.”

“That wasn’t carelessness. You gave two different wrong answers, then said the correct one as soon as time expired. You knew from the beginning.”

The comments were moving too quickly to read.

[Disqualify her.]

[Let another family member answer.]

[She is using a dying girl to punish her own family.]

The host tried to restore order, but Mother seemed oblivious to the outrage. She turned and looked directly at Ethan.

“Do you remember your introductory computer exam twelve years ago?”

He faltered. “What?”

“It included this exact question. You wrote Alien Internet.” Her voice took on the precise cadence she used when lecturing. “That mistake cost you a place in an advanced academic program. When I criticized you, you said it was a trivial oversight and promised to be more careful next time.”

The anger on Ethan’s face gave way to horror.

“I was nine.”

“And you still never learned what a single error can cost.”

Mother pointed toward me again.

“So tonight, I made you see it. One wrong answer can erase one million dollars. One wrong answer can cost your sister the operation that might save her life.”

She studied his bloodless face with the satisfaction of a teacher who had finally made her point.

“This time, I think you’ll remember.”

I stared at her through the screen.

She had not forgotten the answer because she was nervous. She had not misspoken. From the moment she said Alien Internet, she had known exactly what she was doing.

She watched the clock run down. She saw me begging from a hospital bed. She heard a doctor warn that my heart might stop at any moment.

And she still decided that teaching my brother a lesson mattered more than saving my life.

Dad seized her arm.

“Evelyn, that exam was twelve years ago. If you want to teach Ethan something, talk to him at home. Make him apologize. Do anything that doesn’t risk killing Chloe.”

Mother pulled free.

“Gentle reminders don’t work. I have spent twenty years studying how bad decisions destroy entire systems. I understand better than any of you what kind of consequence makes a lesson permanent.”

“But you used Chloe to create that consequence.”

“The doctors said her condition was dangerous. They did not say she would die today.” Mother glanced impatiently at the monitor beside my bed. “She’s only eighteen. She has always been stronger than their average patient. Waiting a little longer will not hurt her.”

The attending physician stepped directly in front of the camera.

“Dr. Carter, I need to correct you. Chloe’s tumor is already restricting blood flow through her heart. She may survive several more hours, or she may go into cardiac arrest in the next minute. No doctor can promise you that she has time to wait.”

Mother was silent for a moment. Then she looked at the host.

“Doesn’t the show offer a bonus round?”

The host frowned.

“Under our rules, a family that loses the main challenge may attempt one final bonus question. The prize would be five hundred thousand dollars.”

Mother immediately relaxed.

“Five hundred thousand is exactly what Chloe needs for the operation.”

She turned back to the large screen, and her voice softened into the familiar tone she had always used with me.

“Hold on a little longer, Chloe. I only used the opportunity to make Ethan understand how much damage a small mistake can cause. I promise I’ll answer the next question correctly.”

For the first time, her tenderness gave me no comfort.

“You already made him understand.” My voice was faint. “Can Dad or Ethan answer the next question?”

The warmth vanished from her face for an instant.

Dad responded immediately. “Let me do it. I’ll answer whatever you ask.”

“Or let me,” Ethan said. “If I get it wrong, I’ll take responsibility.”

The host shook his head regretfully.

“You both used your individual turns during the first nine questions. Under the rules, Dr. Carter must complete the bonus round.”

Silence settled over the studio again.

The production staff searched frantically through the question bank. After a hurried conversation with the producers, the host selected a question that seemed impossible to miss.

“The five-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus round begins now.”

A fresh ten-minute countdown appeared on the screen.

“Dr. Carter, what is your date of birth? We will accept either the standard calendar date or the date used in your family’s traditional records. If either is correct, we will initiate an immediate transfer of five hundred thousand dollars to St. Joseph’s Cardiac Center.”

Dad released a long breath. Ethan closed his eyes as if hope had finally returned.

No one forgot their own birthday.

Mother studied the question, her finger hovering over the answer button. I saw the slightest movement at the corner of her mouth.

Then she raised her hand.

“Before I answer, I’d like to use my outside assistance.”