Page 101 of Axis of Fire

Except for my father.

A geneticist could not be impressed by art.

A geneticist could not be impressed by effort.

A geneticist could never be forced to value something he had already deemed worthless.

He had never given me the chance to feel important.

No matter what I did.

No matter how carefully I listened to him.

No matter how desperately I tried to become like him.

My father had never seen me as his child.

I was part of an experiment.

Part of a revolution I had never been given the right to refuse.

My love for my father—and my desperate need to be accepted by him—would never allow me to disappoint him.

I had trained since childhood.

My abilities were meant to come first.

Because I, as a person, did not truly exist.

A weapon.

A tool.

A loyal servant.

I inhaled slowly.

My life was an investment in his victory.

“You understood everything, didn’t you?”

The sound of the piano cut off as my father’s voice interrupted the melody.

Quiet relief slipped through me.

Unnoticed.

I truly loved music.

But I hated performing for him.

“I understood everything, Father.”

A smile settled onto my lips.

I believed that if it looked sincere enough...

eventually, I would become sincere too.