They Removed the Fake Chip but the Real System Came for Me Chapter 07

They Removed the Fake Chip but the Real System Came for Me Chapter 07

The police pushed back hard, but Dominic and Julian wouldn’t be moved.

They carried my body home.

The door swung open and Ivy rushed toward them, wiping at tears.

“Dom, Julian, you’re finally back. Has Elena been buried yet?”

She got halfway through the sentence. Then she registered what they were holding. “Ah!”

Color drained from her face. She screamed. “What… why did you bring a dead body into the house?”

Dominic and Julian acted like they hadn’t heard a word.

They walked right past her, carrying me. Didn’t even glance her way. Like she wasn’t there.

Ivy stood frozen, the gentleness on her face stiffening into something else.

A housekeeper crept forward to comfort her. “Miss Ivy, don’t be too upset. After all, Miss Elena is dead

now.”

“Get the hell away from me! I don’t need some hired help standing there gawking at me like I’m a joke!”

Ivy whipped around, voice sharp enough to cut.

The housekeeper recoiled like she was seeing Ivy for the first time.

Watching from the sidelines, I felt the edge of my mouth curl. She’d really held it together all this time.

Years of playing sweet and kind and harmless. Never broke character, not even with the staff.

Now that I was gone, she must’ve figured she didn’t need the mask anymore.

Dominic carried me straight into my room. First time he’d stepped inside it in years.

The door opened, and he stopped dead.

The room was bare. Empty like no one had ever lived there.

No trace of my perfume. No sketchbooks on the desk. The little night light I’d loved… gone.

Not a shred of life left in that room.

He laid me gently on the bed, then turned and yanked open the closet.

The closet was empty.

Dominic’s face twisted. He roared toward the doorway. “Where are all the clothes I bought her? The jewelry? Everything!”

“Why does this room look like a damn storage closet? Is someone in this house a thief, stealing from their own family?”

The house manager rushed in, stood at the threshold, face tight with discomfort.

“Sir, Miss Elena’s belongings… over the years… they were moved to Miss Ivy’s room. Little by little.”

Dominic’s eyes bulged. “Who authorized that?!”

His own words hung in the air, and then he went rigid.

Because he remembered.

He was the one who’d authorized it.

Ivy had come to him once, eyes wet, saying her room felt so cold and empty. She didn’t have beautiful

things like her Elena’s. She dreamed she was an outsider and woke up crying.

And he’d felt so sorry for her.

So he’d let her take whatever she wanted. All of it. Didn’t matter if I agreed or not.

Dominic stood there, shoulders caving.

Julian said nothing. He walked to the desk and pulled open the drawer.

There wasn’t much inside. Just a stack of papers. Neatly arranged.

He picked them up. Looked at the first page. His hands started shaking.

3D ultrasound printouts.

One. Two. Three. Nine in total.

Different dates. Different stages.

On the back of every single one, I’d written something to my baby.

[Baby, Mommy saw your tiny hand today. Grow safe and strong.]

[The doctor says you’re healthy. Mommy’s so relieved. No matter who you look like, I’ll love you

forever.]

[Baby, this time I’ll protect you. I swear.]

Further down, the handwriting grew shakier.

Some pages were smeared, blurred from tears.

The last few, the agony bled through every stroke. The pen pressed so hard it nearly tore through the

paper.

[Please stay. Please don’t leave me.]

[Why is this happening to me? I can’t do this anymore.]

The printouts showed tiny human shapes he’d never seen before. Some were sleeping. Some were curling their toes. Every one of them was so vivid. So alive.

Julian’s hands shook so badly he could barely hold the pages.

All those years, he’d never gone to a single appointment with me.

time.

He’d been afraid if he looked, he might waver. Might feel something. So he’d looked away every single

Now he was flipping through them, one after another, like he was reliving every pregnancy, every surge of hope, every crash into despair.

And Julian understood for the first time-those children hadn’t just been mine.

They’d been his too.

Then his fingers brushed something small and hard in the back of the drawer.

He paused. A tiny voice-activated recorder.

A feeling hit him. If he pressed play, he might hear something he couldn’t survive.

But he had nothing left to lose.

His fingers stiffened. He pressed the button.

ar female voice filled the room.

“Yeah, your brats didn’t die. Every time you pissed me off,

out on those little bastards you squeezed out.”

estly? Best stress relief I’ve ever found.”