Chapter 4

When we stepped out of the restaurant, Jeffrey's car was waiting out front.

"Where's Chloe?"

"She drove herself."

Jeffrey slipped into the driver's seat and leaned across the console to buckle my seatbelt.

"What do you want to do tonight? Catch a movie, or head home and rest?"

His thumb grazed my collarbone, pausing there for a second.

That measuring touch again.

"Let's go home. I'm tired."

"Rachel, you're acting strange today," he said suddenly.

"Am I?"

I stared out the window at the blurred city lights.

"You've been pulling away from me since this morning."

Jeffrey's voice was soft, but the tension underneath was suffocating.

"Did Chloe say something to you?"

I turned my head and met his gaze dead-on.

"She said I'm just her replacement."

Jeffrey's grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white.

He slammed on the brakes at a red light.

"And you believed her?" he asked in a low voice.

"I don't know what to believe. Jeffrey, do you love me?"

I had asked him this question dozens of times before.

In the past, he would always kiss me softly and say, "Of course I do."

This time, he stayed silent.

The light turned green. The car behind us honked impatiently.

Jeffrey hit the gas. A long time passed before he finally spoke.

"I do."

"But there are many kinds of love, Rachel."

"The way I love you... might not be the way you want."

It was vague, but it was all the confirmation I needed.

Back at the house, Jeffrey said he had to go down to the basement to prep for tomorrow's lecture.

I watched him pause in front of the study bookshelf. He reached out and pushed a heavy medical dictionary.

The bookshelf slid open with a muted hiss.

I dug my nails into my palms, using the sharp pain to keep my head clear.

Once he stepped inside and the shelf slid shut, I crept silently to the hidden door.

Faint voices drifted through the seam.

"She's getting suspicious," Chloe's voice said from inside.

"The way she looked at me at dinner tonight wasn't right."

"Your provocations were too obvious," Jeffrey replied, his tone devoid of warmth.

"I told you not to spook her."

"Give it a few more days, until I collect the final set of physiological data."

"Are you sure it'll work this time? You botched it last time."

"Last time was an accident," Jeffrey said, his voice dropping below freezing.

"Her getting pregnant threw off all my plans. Her vitals changed completely. But now she's back to peak condition."

"So that's why you had me trigger her miscarriage?" Chloe asked.

"Cold-blooded, Jeffrey. Sacrificing your own kid."

"Science requires sacrifice," Jeffrey repeated, the very words that haunted my nightmares.

"Besides, children can always be replaced. A flawless specimen, once missed, is gone forever."

I sank to the floor against the doorframe, my limbs going numb.

Tears spilled silently down my cheeks, but I clamped my hand over my mouth, refusing to make a sound.

"So when are you going to do it?"

"Tomorrow night," Jeffrey said, a trace of twisted excitement in his tone.

"I've perfected the anesthetic cocktail. It will keep her fully conscious throughout the procedure, entirely aware, but completely paralyzed."

"The vocal cords are yours. The rest... belongs to me."

"Deal."

Their voices carried on, but I couldn't listen anymore.

I sprinted into the bathroom and dry-heaved over the toilet.

Wiping away my tears, I picked up a scalpel from the vanity with trembling hands and aimed it straight at my heart.

The second the blade pierced my chest, a dark, unsettling smile crossed my lips.

"You want my body for your collection? Then I'll show you—the living are far more terrifying than the dead."