Chapter 3: Breaking Their Script

At that moment, just like last time, Mr. Thompson handed me the keys. “These are the keys to the house. There are rooms upstairs and downstairs. Rachel, you can live in whichever one you like.” The keys jingled in his palm—cheap, tinny, and impersonal.

But this time, an electronic voice blared in Mr. Thompson’s mind: [System Alert: Host, affection value dropping fast. -5, -10, -15… Warning!]

Last life, I only learned about the conquest system as I hit the pavement, bones shattering. I’d never heard the system’s voice before. Now, I could hear every intrusive, digital alert as clearly as if it was piped straight into my brain.

I took the keys. They felt heavier than they should, weighted with everything I now knew.

Mr. Thompson’s mouth twisted into a smug smile, like he’d just closed another hostile takeover. Bethany’s laugh was sharp and satisfied—until I stuffed the keys into her hand.

“For a second, nobody moved. You could’ve heard a pin drop on the marble.”

“Since Bethany loves this house so much, I’ll give it to her as a welcome gift,” I said sweetly. “Go ahead, move in.”

Let’s see who Dad chooses: his own life, or his precious pearl.

They all froze, like mannequins in a Nordstrom window. Bethany snapped first, flinging the keys at me: “Are you crazy? Who wants to live in your dog—”

Mr. Thompson interrupted, panic in his eyes. “We said it’s for Rachel, of course Rachel should go live there! Rachel, this is specially given to you by Dad. After letting you wander outside for so many years, Dad feels he owes you too much. This is special compensation for you.”

“Yes, Rachel, Bethany has her own room—” Mrs. Thompson chimed in, her voice honeyed and false.

I arched a brow. “Then let’s switch. Bethany can live in the new house. I’ll take her room.”

A young man stormed in, pointing at me with a sneer. “Who even are you? You think you can just waltz in here and take Bethany’s room? Dream on.”

That was my blood brother, Zachary Thompson. Always Bethany’s knight, never mine.

“If you don’t want to live here, get out of our house now!” he barked, reaching out to shove me. His hands were soft—never done a day’s real work.

Mr. Thompson stopped him, sweating as the system’s alerts counted down. [System Alert: Host, affection value dropping fast. -5, -10, -15…]

Suddenly, Mr. Thompson snapped, “Listen to Rachel! Bethany, you move over there and let Rachel live in your room!” His face was red, eyes wild.

Bethany’s jaw dropped. Her father, who never even raised his voice to her, was suddenly sacrificing her comfort for mine.

She whined, “Dad, you said I’m your only baby! Why should I give her my room? I won’t—”

He cut her off, voice harsh. “Stop talking nonsense! Move when I tell you to move!”

Bethany gaped, stunned. Mrs. Thompson and Zachary stared at him like he’d grown horns.

Mr. Thompson forced a smile for me. “Rachel, Dad will have all of Bethany’s things moved right now and the room emptied for you. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Only then did I nod, and the affection value stopped plummeting—finally stalling at -40.