- 02
During the blackout, Priya convened an all–hands meeting in the command center.
*Priya: Attention, everyone. We are currently soul–bound within Rowan Adler’s body. I propose a duty roster. Only one person is to have active control at any given time.”
The proposal passed unanimously.
When we opened our eyes again, it was Chloe, the Class Belle, who was at the helm. The torn dress had been replaced with clean pajamas.
Before we even reached the dining room, Lilith’s weeping could be heard, a calculated performance for an audience of
two.
“Mother, does sister hate me?” she cried. “I’m begging you, please don’t send me away. I can be her maid…”
Mr. Fairchild was dabbing her tears with a napkin. “Silly child, how could we ever abandon you? It’s Rowan who is being terribly inconsiderate. When she comes down, I’ll have to teach her a lesson.”
*Chloe: Don’t worry, everyone. Fight fire with fire. Watch how I handle this two–faced schemer.”
Chloe expertly shifted our facial expression into one of timid fragility. She took slow, hesitant steps into the dining room, making sure our posture was hunched, our eyes downcast.
Mrs. Fairchild stood and ladled a bowl of rich lobster bisque. “Rowan, sit down. Are you feeling better? Her voice was softer than before, laced with a new, uncertain note.
Chloe wrapped our arms around ourself. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’m so, so sorry I experienced a somatic symptom episode.”
“Somatic… what?” Mrs. Fairchild asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“I have post–traumatic stress disorder, Chloe whispered, letting a single, perfect tear trace a path get triggered, I have a somatic response… It’s from my childhood,”
down our cheek. “When I
She took a shaky breath. “When I was little… the driver, the one who took me.., he said I ate too much. He would heat up an iron hook from the fireplace. Sometimes he’d just press it against my skin until it bled. Other times…”
Mrs. Fairchild’s hand, holding the silver ladle, trembled slightly. A flicker of raw, maternal pain crossed her face, a look of genuine horror that Lilith’s crocodile tears could never replicate.
Lilith immediately cut in, her voice sharp with false concern. “Sister, let the past be the past! You know Mother has a weak heart. Why would you say such things to upset her?”
Chloe flinched violently, as if struck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know Mother wasn’t well…”
“It’s alright, Rowan,” Mrs. Fairchild said, her voice thick with emotion as she waved Lilith into silence. “You don’t need to apologize. Come, eat something.”
Chloe took the bowl and turned, walking toward the grand entryway of the mansion.
11:47 PM
“Where are you going?” Mrs. Fairchild asked, her voice filled with confusion.
Chloe pointed to the floor by the front door, her voice a tiny thread of sound. “I’ll just…. eat over there. On the floor… The driver always said I was scum. That I should eat on the floor with the dogs… from their leftovers…”
Mrs. Fairchild froze. The sound of a spoon clattering onto a plate was the only noise in the vast room.
Then, with a choked sob, she crossed the room in three quick strides and pulled Rowan’s body into a fierce, trembling embrace. Her own tears, hot and real, fell silently onto our hair.
*Blaze (in our mind): Chloe, you’re a genius! Three sentences and you have the matriarch in tears.”
*Chloe: Showing weakness isn’t surrender. It’s a strategic retreat.*
Deep in the command center of Rowan’s mind, we gave our Class Belle a standing ovation.
