Chapter 3

I did not leave for the press conference right away. I left my phone on the table, and it continued vibrating as I stared at the cold chicken noodle soup, feeling nauseous.

It had been years since I escaped. I had a job and a place to stay, and I had finally worked up the courage to buy myself a cup of milk tea as a treat. I always thought that they could not do anything to me as long as I did not look back.

However, my phone started vibrating wildly. Unknown numbers kept calling me, and texts from new numbers filled the screen.

[How can a failed sample get revenge against her parents?]

[Is it true that you have a tendency to retaliate against society?]

[You're an egoist who ruined 26 years of your parents' hard work!]

[People like you should be destroyed!]

My fingers froze, unable to decline any of the calls or texts. I knocked the chicken soup over by accident. I forgot to dodge the spill, and it scattered all over the ground, wetting my feet. I looked down at the mess.

A representative from my company’s HR department called, sounding polite, "Candice Sullivan, the company has just caught attention of your current situation. The internet is filled with speculations of your mental condition, familial ethics, and career stability."

I replied, "They aren't true."

She paused before continuing, "Some netizens are saying that you’re prone to retaliate against society. This company isn't willing to take risks with their employees."

My knuckles turned pale from gripping the phone. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm fired?"

There was silence for several seconds. "We're suggesting a friendly negotiation between both parties."

After hanging up, I received an email informing me that I had been let go. I sat by the side of the bed with my burnt feet and started to heave. Even my school alumni chat group started to become active with texts. None of the alumni remembered me, but now, everyone started recognizing me.

[Is she really from our school? How embarrassing.]

Someone started a poll.

[Should we uninvite Candice Sullivan to reunions and all alumni activities?]

The last option in the poll read: [I don't know her, but it's still embarrassing to be associated with her.]

I felt nauseous reading the texts, and I ran to the bathroom again to throw up. However, it was only dry heaving, and nothing came out. All I felt was acidic liquid rushing up my throat, and I started tearing up from the pain.

My phone on the table outside started to ring again and again. My shoulders shuddered, and I accidentally knocked the back of my hand against the sink, hurting my fingers so badly that they started to go numb. I did not dare to leave my bathroom, afraid of whatever cursing was waiting for me on the other end of the phone.

The ringing finally stopped, but started again in less than two seconds.

I leaned against the wall for support as I walked out, and next to the bed, my phone screen lit up. The call was from Tina Camden. The tension in my back relaxed the moment I saw her name. I crouched to pick up my phone, though it took me several tries to answer due to my trembling hands.

Tina had seen me return home from work late at night, crouching in the corridor to have my cold supper. She had seen me working hard on my proposal with a high fever, until it got so bad that I could hardly hold the mouse.

"Don't read any of those comments, Candice," Tina said in a slightly trembling voice. "Don't pick up calls from unknown numbers either. Let me know where you are. I'm coming over right now."

I wanted to tell Tina that I was fine, but could not say the words. I could hear her sniffle. "How could they do something like this? I've seen the way you've struggled over the past few years. You're not a failed experiment. You're a human being."

A human being.

My knees went weak, and I only stopped myself from falling by leaning against the bed. My parents had never called me a human being before. I was only known as the regular twin, 'Sample A', or 'Low Intervention Sample'.

I clicked on the trending post, which read, ‘The risk assessment of the regular group was put together with the assistance of the elite twin, Chloe Sullivan.’

It chilled me to read it. Even my current pathetic situation had been reported on by them for their research. I stared at the screen and suddenly laughed. My throat was still hurting, making my laugh sound hoarse and terrible.

My efforts to live a normal life and go to work like a regular person were seen as attempts to destroy their experiment. The more I wanted to live a normal life, the harder they tried to prove that I was not fit to be a human being.

I wiped away the water at the corner of my lips and went into my room to change. My feet still felt sticky from the spilled soup as I clutched my phone.

It was not enough that they had stepped on me like dirt. I had to go to that press conference to find out what more they wanted from me.