I was 18 years old when my mother wheeled me toward an operating room and told me that wanting to stay alive was selfish. By then, I had spent my entire childhood learning one rule: my body belonged to my sister before it belonged to me. But as the fluorescent lights passed above my face that morning, one after another, I finally understood something nobody in my family had ever allowed me to say aloud.

That evening, inside the evidence lockup at the municipal police precinct, Detective Rodriguez sat under a desk lamp, opening the yellow folder labeled PROJECT PRIMUS.

I stood behind her, watching as she read page after page of the horrific truth my mother had kept hidden for eighteen years.

With every line the detective read, her face grew paler, her hands shaking with genuine horror.

"My God..." Rodriguez whispered to the empty room. "Claire was adopted... They cloned and engineered a biological child... just to farm her..."

Attached to the back of the file was an original, handwritten diary kept by my mother during her pregnancy with me in 2007.

Detective Rodriguez opened the small leather book, reading my mother’s neat, clinical handwriting aloud:

"March 12, 2008: The embryo implantation was successful. Genetic sequencing confirms a 100% HLA match for Claire. Thomas worries about the psychological impact of raising a child for harvest. I told him emotion is a luxury we cannot afford. The second child is an investment—a biological backup policy. She will serve her purpose, and nothing more."

Detective Rodriguez covered her mouth, a tear of pure rage slipping down her cheek. "You monster," she breathed. "You absolute monster."

She immediately picked up her desk phone, dialing the District Attorney's private line.

"Sir," Rodriguez said, her voice shaking with adrenaline. "I have the evidence. Issue the arrest warrants for murder in the second degree, illegal human genetic experimentation, and child exploitation. We're picking up Margaret and Thomas Wells tonight."

I stood beside the desk, feeling a deep, quiet warmth spread through my spectral form.

The shadow appeared beside me, its face of dark void leaning close to my ear.

"The law of man will chain their bodies, Emily," the shadow whispered softly. "But what of their souls? What of the sister who ate your life?"