By the time the car pulled into the driveway, the sky was already growing dark.

Maddison stood waiting at the front door with her hands neatly folded in front of her. A perfect smile rested on her lips; it was precisely measured, revealing exactly six teeth. She looked exactly the same as she had three years ago.

Back then, Mom had crouched down in front of her, her voice impossibly gentle. "Maddison, welcome home."

I’d jumped off the couch and rushed over, excited to meet my new little sister, then something had caught my foot, and I hit the floor hard.

Nobody helped me up. They only complained that I was being too rowdy again.

After that, everyone eventually started disliking me. I wasn’t as obedient, thoughtful, or lovable as Maddison.

Finally, they sent me away.

"Welcome home, Lola." Maddison’s voice was still sweet and pleasant.

I didn’t answer since she hadn’t instructed me to respond.

Mom frowned immediately. "You still don’t like Maddison? Clearly, you still haven’t learned how to behave. Answer her."

The command registered, so I instantly smiled. "Understood. Thank you."

Maddison’s expression didn’t change, but Mom nodded in satisfaction.

At dinner, the entire family gathered around the table. Maddison sat to Mom’s right while Bailey sat beside Dad. I sat at the far end.

Steam curled from the dishes, the scent drifting through the air, but my stomach felt nothing at all. At the academy, eating was classified as an energy replenishment behavior. It had nothing to do with pleasure or hunger.

"Go ahead and eat," Mom said casually.

I immediately picked up my cutlery and ate.

Bailey stared at me in disbelief when he saw what I was eating. "No way. You actually eat green peppers now? You used to be the pickiest eater alive."

Without responding, I simply picked up another bite of peppers.

The instructors taught us that personal tastes were merely emotional residue—proof of a correction that hadn't yet been fully realized.

During my third month at the academy, I refused to eat green peppers. As a result, they locked me inside the silence chamber for two full days. Within that total darkness, stripped of all light, sound, and stimulation, I learned the cost of defiance.

After I emerged, I ate the peppers, then carrots, onions, and bittergourd. I swallowed everything I had once despised without a second thought.

Mom nodded approvingly. She always liked children who weren’t picky.

I reached for the chopped peanuts in the salad, placing one in my mouth. I chewed exactly fifteen times before swallowing.

Dad’s eyes widened instantly. "She ate peanuts? Wasn’t Lola severely allergic? When she was little, a single peanut sent her to the ER. Her lips swelled up like balloons."

Bailey slowly lowered his fork, stunned. "The academy can cure allergies, too?"

I continued chewing silently. At the academy, humans weren’t allowed to have allergies.

I remembered an instructor smearing peanut butter across my skin. Layer after layer of rashes broke out—swelling, blisters, and eventually, the smell of rotting flesh.

"Allergies are a form of weakness," he had told me with cold indifference. "And weakness can be transformed into strength through training."

Though my skin tore and healed repeatedly, the biological reaction never truly vanished.

A tremor suddenly ran through me, and my throat began tightening. My skin started itching violently. One red welt after another spread across my body.

Bailey frowned. "Her face looks really red."

Mom leaned closer. The moment she saw me clearly, her expression changed completely. "That’s not blushing. She’s having an allergic reaction. Lola, stop eating! You know you’re allergic to peanuts!"

My fork paused midair as I slowly looked up at her. My voice remained calm and flat, without the slightest emotional fluctuation. "Is that a command?"

Mom froze.

By then, my breathing had already started becoming labored.

Beside us, Maddison’s gentle voice rang out immediately, "Patient is experiencing an allergic response. Difficulty breathing classified as moderate severity. Skin inflammation currently covers approximately twenty-three percent of the body. Immediate anti-allergy treatment is recommended."

Panic instantly erupted around the table.

Dad scrambled for medicine while Mom hurried to force anti-histamine pills into my mouth.

Only after my breathing finally stabilized did silence settle over the living room again.

Then Bailey’s uneasy voice drifted from the couch. "She’s not right anymore. She used to cry, throw tantrums, and get angry. Now she’s just..."

He hesitated. "Just like Maddison."

I said nothing since he hadn’t given me a command to speak.

"Can you act normal for once?" Bailey’s voice suddenly rose in frustration. "Stop copying Maddie all the time! We wanted an obedient sister, not a damn robot!"

I looked at his face calmly. There was anger, agitation, and confusion.

I answered softly, "Please define 'normal.'"

The color drained from Bailey’s face. Dad and Mom didn’t look any better.

Dad immediately called the academy.

The person on the other end explained that this was a completely normal response to "deep behavioral correction" and that I would gradually recover in a few days.

"Unit 1314 is currently our academy’s top-performing student. Her obedience levels surpass even advanced AI models. There’s no need for concern. Everything is functioning normally."

Dad repeated the explanation after hanging up. Mom visibly relaxed.

Just like that, I became the most useful thing in the house.

When Mom told me to wash dishes, I cleaned them more thoroughly than Maddison ever could.

When Dad told me to move flower pots, I carried every single one across the yard by myself.

When Bailey asked me to pick up his packages, I ran faster than a trained dog.

Mom even laughed once and said, "Lola’s become more useful than Maddie now."

Everyone agreed, until the night Bailey forgot to power me down.

The entire house fell asleep. I remained sitting on the living room couch. From sunset to sunrise, I never moved once.

The next morning, Mom came downstairs and found me sitting in the exact same position as the night before. Her face turned pale. The mug in her hand slipped to the floor and shattered.

Later that afternoon, a woman in a white coat arrived at the house. She introduced herself as Dr. Claire Kirby. Her voice was gentle as she said, "Hello, Lola."

I didn’t respond.

Mom stood nearby, anxiously wringing her hands. "You have to give her commands first. Otherwise, she won’t answer you."

Dr. Kirby glanced at Mom, a faint crease forming between her brows.

"Tell me your name." This time, she used a directive sentence.

"Unit 1314."

The tip of Dr. Kirby’s pen paused against the paper. "What about your real name?"

"Lola Matthews. However, that is a former designation. Academy regulations require graduates to use their assigned unit numbers as official identification."

The room went deathly silent, and Dr. Kirby froze completely. My family’s expressions turned uglier by the second.

Soon after, they all went into the study to talk. I could only catch fragments through the closed door.

"Post-traumatic stress..."

"Dissociation..."

"Long-term treatment..."

After that day, the atmosphere inside the house changed. Everyone started treating me carefully, almost cautiously.

Then came Maddison’s birthday, or rather, the day the family made a difficult decision. They were sending Maddison away. This would be her final birthday in the Matthews household.

The living room was filled with balloons, and a two-tier cake sat in the center of the table.

Maddison walked toward me slowly, still wearing that same soft smile. "Happy birthday, Lola."

I blinked once. Something inside my mind shifted slightly.

Today was my birthday too, but nobody remembered.

Three years ago, on this exact day, they shoved me into a car and sent me away to the academy. Before leaving, I had cried and asked Mom if I could at least stay long enough to eat my birthday cake. She told me I could have cake after I learned how to behave and came home again.

I learned how to behave, but I never got the cake.

Then Maddison suddenly smiled at me and said, "Lola, the definition of normal... is pushing away the people you dislike. You should push me. Just like you did three years ago."

I stared into her eyes.

Something flickered there beneath her usual sweetness. For the first time, her face no longer looked gentle, but she had given me a definition of "normal".

Slowly, I placed my hand on her shoulder. I still didn’t push her yet.

Maddison fell backward onto the floor. Her skirt spread around her like a flower already beginning to wilt.

The living room doors suddenly flew open as Bailey stood there holding a plate of fruit.

The moment he saw us, he shouted furiously, "Lola! What the hell are you doing?"

The fruit platter crashed to the floor beside him, fruit rolling everywhere.

Maddison sat on the ground and slowly looked up, tears already pooling in her eyes. "Lola, why did you push me? I thought you didn’t hate me anymore. Why would you push me again?"

I said nothing.

She was pretending; I knew she was. Just as her tears were simulated responses, her trembling was an algorithmic behavior.

Mom rushed over, her expression transforming from shock to rage in seconds. "What are you doing?! Why would you push Maddie?!"

"She told me to."

"That’s a lie!" Maddison burst into tears. "Why would I ever ask you to push me? I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday..."

Bailey immediately crouched down to help her up, handling her carefully like fragile porcelain. Then he looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment. "You never changed at all. You spent three years at that academy pretending to be obedient, and now your true colors are showing the second you get back.

"I knew it. People like you never change. You’ve hated seeing Maddie happy since we were kids."

Mom’s eyes were filled with tears as well, but not because she felt sorry for me. She was angry. "We were just talking about treating you better. I was even regretting sending you to that place. We were discussing how to make things up to you."

She stepped closer and jabbed a finger hard against my chest. "And this is what we get? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still cruel. You still can’t tolerate Maddie.

"You pretended to be good for three whole years and fooled every one of us."

I opened my mouth instinctively, meaning to tell her this wasn’t an act. The academy had turned me into this, and they were the ones who sent me there.

However, I couldn’t say it because no command had been issued.

"Say something!" Mom screamed at me.

"I have not received a command instructing me to speak."

Mom’s face flushed crimson with fury.

Behind her, Maddison leaned weakly against her shoulder, quietly sobbing.

Then Bailey suddenly spoke, "You should die."

The living room went silent.

Dad frowned sharply. "What did you say?"

Bailey’s voice rose loud enough to shake the windows. "I said she should die! Doesn’t she obey every command now? Isn’t she the perfect obedient daughter? Then tell her to die! Everything would finally be peaceful if she disappeared!"

The moment those words left his mouth, Maddison suddenly collapsed onto the floor. Her body convulsed violently, and her eyes rolled back. Foam spilled from the corner of her mouth.

"Maddie! Maddison, what’s happening?!" Mom’s scream tore through the room.

She cradled Maddison’s head while Dad desperately tried to keep her conscious. Bailey scrambled for his phone to call an ambulance.

Everyone surrounded her.

Nobody looked at me.

I slowly turned toward the garden outside the balcony doors.

Behind me, Maddison continued convulsing on the floor while Mom, Dad, and Bailey panicked around her.

Still, no one looked at me.

"Command received. Terminate."

Nobody heard me. They were too busy worrying about Maddison and showering her with attention.

I slowly turned around and walked toward the balcony. Cold night wind rushed against my skin.

"Lola!" Bailey noticed first. His voice came out sharp and terrified. His phone slipped from his hand and shattered against the floor.

Mom whipped around too, all the color draining from her face instantly. "Lola! What are you doing?!"

I smiled faintly at her. Then, without hesitation, I carried out the command.