Page 93 of Cup of Lies

“I’m real,” she whimpers.

“Liar.”

There’s a pause as if she’s taking orders from someone. Or Dad is just fucking with me. My head is too foggy for any of this to make sense.

“Send them away,” she tells me. “If you send them away and just talk to him, he will let me live.”

The psychological games he plays are so fucked up.

They’re so real.

“He took me from my parents. They’re probably so worried.”

“Mom and Dad are dead, remember? And they’re mine, not yours. You’re a fucking figment of my imagination.”

“No,” she croaks out. “I’m real.”

The ache in her voice sounds genuine. When I designed that program to mimic a voice in real time, I didn’t expect it to sound so lifelike. It’s only fair I’m being mentally attacked by my own creation.

I hang up the phone and rush over to the door. It’s bolted shut and not going anywhere.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I have to get out of here.

Will Theo figure out I’m in trouble and come after me? Or is he in on Dad’s shit?

I’ll never be able to trust Theo if we get out of here alive.

Think, Caius.

I race back over to the phone, wishing I had Romy’s photographic memory. Dad has taken both my phone and my weapon. Maybe I can call for the police if this phone hasn’t been fucked with to prevent me from doing it.

Before I can pick it up, it rings again, the sound loud and maddening.

“What do you want from me?”

“Come find me,” she says. “Save me.”

I rub at my temple, furious that he’s getting inside my head. The voice is that of my sister. It’s real. Right?

No.

Fuck.

“Let me out, Dad. Please. We’ll talk this over like damn adults. Taking me prisoner and doing your CUP shit on me won’t work this time.” I hang up the phone again, so forcefully it makes my ears hurt from the sound.

I’m thankful Bermuda was able to hack into the technology of the Stem Lock shit at least, freeing me, Romy, Kaitlyn, and LuLu. One day I’ll find a surgeon to remove the disabled devices from our bodies.

Now Dad has to rely on the good old-fashioned mind control he’s perfected over the years.

I’m not one of his soldiers or vulnerable patients wanting to better their lives by erasing who they are.

I want the fuck out of here.

I want to get back to Romy and the kids.

Think. Think. Think.

---