👉 Previous Decision: You chose Option A – Hide a physical handwritten note inside her younger brother Toby’s toy truck before her morning shift wipe begins.
Maya’s fingers fumbled with the tiny seam of Toby’s red plastic truck. Before the 7:58 AM elevator call, she folded the note small. It held key words: “wrist marks,” “Julian,” “help.”
She tucked it deep inside the hollow frame, a desperate whisper to her younger brother, hoping her conscious self, when she returned, would find it.
The familiar hum of the Severance Floor entrance sealed her in. Eight hours later, at 4:02 PM, her eyes fluttered open in the transition lounge. The usual cold clarity washed over her.
She reached for her bag, her hand automatically searching for the truck. It wasn’t there.
Julian stood by the door, a thin, clinical smile stretched across his lips. In his hand, he held the small, creased paper. Her note.
“Bio-security protocol, Maya,” he said, his voice level, almost sympathetic. “All personal items brought into the ward are incinerated.”
He watched her face, his gaze unflinching. Then he clicked a pen, signing a digital tablet.
“I’ve signed a mandatory observation order for you,” he added, tapping the screen. “Just a precaution, given your… recent stress.”
Maya’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t just found the note; he’d anticipated her. He was already two steps ahead.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 3 to continue the story.
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