They Took Everything by Vote, So I Disappeared Chapter 01

They Took Everything by Vote, So I Disappeared Chapter 01

My family believed every decision should be fair—by vote.

So everything came down to a family vote.

Dad, Mom, my brother, and my sister, Kelsey.

One person, one vote.

And I got one too.

The problem was, it was always four against one.

I’d never won.

During my junior year of high school, my brother wanted a new computer.

The vote was four to one.

Just like that, the tutoring money I’d saved for three years was gone.

During senior year, when it was time to submit my college applications, I received an offer through Westbridge University’s Early Admission Program.

But Kelsey cried and said she didn’t want me going so far away.

So the family held another vote.

Dad pressed my college application choices flat against the table.

“Majority rules.”

“You’re going to the local state college.”

I told him I’d worked incredibly hard to get into Westbridge University.

Mom frowned.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Westbridge is so far away.”

“If you get sick out there, who’s going to take care of you?”

Later, when my brother needed money to launch his startup, Dad held up my college acceptance letter and said my tuition money would go toward keeping his business afloat.

Kelsey looped her arm through mine, smiling.

“We already voted on it.”

“So don’t get all upset about it now.”

I stared at the college acceptance letter whose fate they had decided with a vote.

Suddenly, I almost wanted to laugh.

So this was what they called fairness.

Four people using a perfectly “fair” vote to decide what I had to lose.

That night, I stopped arguing.

Instead, I went online and filled out a Classified Research Fellowship Application Agreement for Red Mesa High Desert.

From then on, my vote would be mine alone to cast.

…

“Erin, have you finally come around about your tuition?”

Dad sat at the head of the dining table.

In his hand was an old “antique” coffee pot Grandma had left him, one he’d been using for ten years.

I stood there with a dishcloth, wiping grease off the table.

“I have.”

Mom came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of sliced watermelon and set it on the coffee table.

“Good.”

She let out a long breath of relief.

“Your brother’s startup is at a critical stage.”

“The business can’t run out of cash now.”

She picked out the reddest slice of watermelon and handed it to Bryce, who was sitting on the couch playing video games.

Bryce didn’t even look up.

He leaned over and took a bite.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Then he mumbled at me through a mouthful of watermelon.

“Once I land this round of funding, I’ll take you out and get you a new phone.”

“That junk phone of yours is so slow you take forever to answer me on WhatsApp.”

“It holds things up.”

I glanced down at the old phone sticking halfway out of my pocket.

It was a hand-me-down Kelsey had discarded after her freshman year.

The upper-right corner of the screen was shattered into a spiderweb of cracks.

I had to tilt the phone just to read anything properly.

“No thanks.”

I rinsed out the dishcloth and hung it beside the sink.

Kelsey was sitting in front of the mirror, putting on makeup tape.

“Erin, quit looking so sour all the time.”

“Everyone voted that day.”

“If you stay local, we can still see each other every day.”

“And seriously, it’s just some local state college.”

“Why would you need that much money for it? Isn’t it better to use your money for your family?”

“Mom and Dad are doing this for your own good.”

Just some local state college.

My nails dug into my palm.

Half a month earlier, I’d received an early admission offer from Westbridge University.

One of the top five universities in the country.

I’d stayed up through countless nights.

I’d burned through three boxes of pen refills.

That was what it had taken to earn that chance.

But Kelsey said she couldn’t stand the thought of me being so far from home.

She said she was used to eating the breakfast I made every morning.

Used to having me pick up her packages.

So Dad called a family vote.

Four to one.

Westbridge University was gone.

In its place was a local state college only three stops from home.

And now, they were taking away even that tuition money.

“I’ll look for a part-time job this afternoon.”

I turned and said it to them.

Dad finally looked away from the TV and glanced at me.

“That’s more like it.”

“Family is supposed to help each other out.”

I didn’t answer.

I turned and went back to my room.

It was tiny.

Just a twin bed and an old desk.

My acceptance letter from the local state college sat on top of it.

I opened the drawer and shoved the letter all the way to the bottom.

Then I turned on my old computer.

It took five full minutes to boot up.

When the screen finally came to life, an unread email was waiting in my inbox.

Sender: Red Mesa Federal Research Facility

Subject: [CLASSIFIED] Final Confirmation for Erin’s Classified Research Program

I opened it.

“Erin, your application has passed the final security and admissions review.”

“This is a federally classified research program. You will receive a full tuition scholarship and a monthly stipend.”

“Please note: The program is based in Red Mesa High Desert, where living conditions are harsh. All participants are required to sign a nondisclosure and security agreement.”

“Once you accept, you will enter a five-year residential research commitment. Outside communication will be strictly restricted during that period.”

“Please upload your background-check documents and proof of residency change within three days.”

My hand stayed perfectly steady on the mouse.

I didn’t hesitate.

I clicked “Confirm Participation.”

Bryce’s laughter came booming from the living room.

“Kelsey, dinner’s on me tonight.”

“Let’s try that new sushi restaurant.”

“Yes!”

“I want salmon sashimi!” Kelsey cheered.

Mom laughed too.

“You two shouldn’t eat too much raw fish.”

“Your stomachs can’t handle that much.”

“That’s fine. Come with us, Mom!”

“Dad, come on. Let’s go!”

The four of them happily planned dinner together.

No one knocked on my door.

No one asked, “Erin, do you want to come?”

I stared at the words “Confirmation Successful” on my computer screen.

Then I started going through the few warm clothes I owned.

Winter in Red Mesa High Desert was probably going to be freezing.