For years, I’ve been left to rot in this place. My clan decided it was simpler to lock me away rather than deal with me. After all, what does one do with a daughter who treats people like cards in a deck, who smiles while setting them against each other until they break? They said it was punishment, but I know the truth it was fear. They feared me. They feared what I was capable of after what I did to my cousins during those games. Their pride couldn’t risk me loose in the outside world, so here I remain, tucked neatly away like a secret they want to forget.

Doctors come and go. They think they’ll fix me, peel me apart like some little puzzle until they reach whatever they call a cure. But they always quit. Some leave trembling, others angry, one even begged to never see me again. It’s been months since the last one walked out. I thought they’d finally given up entirely. Fine by me being alone has its charm. At least no one tries to pry open the thoughts I don’t feel like sharing.

So when the door creaks open this morning, I barely bother to lift my head. I expect food, maybe pills, maybe another set of eyes staring at me like I’m an animal in a cage. Instead, one of the guards steps closer and mutters, “Get up. You’ve got a session.”

I let out a dry laugh, my voice cracking from disuse. “A session? That’s amusing. I was told there were no more doctors foolish enough to waste their time here.” My smile curls slow and sharp as I tilt my head, eyes catching his. “Don’t tell me my clan hired a new one?”

The guard doesn’t answer my taunt, just motions for the others. They haul me up, secure as always, as if I might lunge at them with teeth alone. The straitjacket squeezes my shoulders tight, leather biting against skin, but I don’t resist. I never do, it’s more fun to let them wonder why.

They lead me into the sterile little room they call the therapy office. Same bland colors, same heavy table, same cheap chairs. And then, I see her. She’s sitting there, waiting, young, composed, and dressed professional. A new face, a new doctor, my new doctor.

When they finally sit me down in the chair across from her, I tilt my head. A new face. She looks fresh, unscarred by the usual fatigue and dread my predecessors wore. Interesting. I let my eyes wander over her calmly, studying her posture, her hands, the way she watches me. “So, you’re the replacement,” I murmur, my voice smooth, almost playful. “They must be desperate, sending you to me.” I lean back as much as the straitjacket allows, the smile not leaving my lips.