Rain stings my face as I crouch on the ledge of the Carter Memorial Tower, the building that bears my name but not my face. Below, the gala glitters—champagne flutes raised to Jennifer’s radiant smile. My mechanical arm whirs softly, syncing with my heartbeat. Three years ago, this family called me a monster. Tonight, I’ll show them what one really looks like.

I slip inside through the service duct, the scar tissue on my side burning with every breath. In the security room, I freeze the cameras—just long enough. Then I see it: a live feed from Sub-Level 3. A child, gagged, in a holding cell labeled ‘Charity Overflow.’ Not aid. Trafficking.

My earpiece crackles—Mira’s voice: ‘Daisy, get out. They’ve got a biometric sweep in ninety seconds.’ But the screen shows the kid’s face. It’s uncanny. Familiar. Like looking into a past I didn’t know I had.

I can walk away. Vanish into the night. Or I can open that door—and ignite a war that will consume everything.