The roar of the powerful engines of her custom-built motorcycle filled the air as she tore down the empty road that led out of the town and towards the countryside where her family farm was located, the world around her turning to a blur for the briefest of moments as she pushed her custom bike near its limits; a vapor cone forming around the machine as she peeled down the road, her body instinctively piloting the machine as she closed her eyes, letting the guitar wails from the newest metal song she had found wash over her, the music and howling winds washing away the negative emotions that Susan and Alex always brought out in her.

Letting her body pilot the motorcycle for the rest of the two hour journey, Mia thought about what she would say to her dad, and more importantly; how he’d react to her demands for the truth. Truth be told, she knew exactly how he’d react, but a part of her hoped that he would take her seriously and not simply dismiss her.

Taking a deep breath as she piloted her vehicle towards the farm, she mentally went over the information she had gathered, discarding some parts that she now deemed irrelevant while mentally expanding on some that she felt would get her points across. Opening her eyes as she felt the bike slow down, she was greeted by the all too familiar fence line that marked the boundaries of her family farm. Turning off the main road in order to access the patch of dirt road that led to the farm gates, she took in the sights and scents of the farm, each one bringing up a series of pleasant memories as she brought the vehicle to a stop at the foot of the stairs that led to the family home.

Dismounting from her bike, she pocketed her keys and took out her earbuds as she walked up the stairs, pausing as she stepped onto the porch, her eyes landing on the lone rocking chair that swayed lazily on the porch; a reminder of happier times. Times she had spent looking up at the night sky with her grandmother, watching her point to empty expanses of night sky and tell her of times when the sky was filled with constellations. She could still hear her grandmother’s voice telling her about the Big Dipper, about the zodiac. Of “the good old days” as she put it. Tracing a finger across the arm of the chair, she continued with her recollections, a soft smile on her face as she recalled the times they spent together.

Pulling her hand away with a deep sigh, she pushed open the door, mentally bracing herself for the cacophony of screams, name-calling, swears, slurs and laughter that accompanied the horde she called her family, only to be greeted by a silence that probably hadn’t existed since the founding of the farm two millennia ago. Whatever her father wanted to talk to her about, whatever her condition was, it was important and sensitive enough that the entire family had been cleared out in order to give them complete and absolute privacy.

The seriousness of the situation was made even more evident as she laid eyes on the interior of the house; the clean floors a stark contrast to its usual state of being covered with broken and discarded toys, shoes, clothes, pet toys and tracks of mud that were dragged in by her horde of cousins and their equally rambunctious pets. The walls dirtied by age were now sparkling clean, the childish scribbles and drawings painted over and two millennia worth of family portraits that immortalized each member of the family, along with occasions both major and minor now arranged with surgical precision.

Walking down the pristine halls to her father’s study, she fiddled with the dials and knobs on her mask, tweaking it to release a more concentrated dose which she inhaled greedily, the cocktail calming her frayed nerves as she made her way to the study, ignoring the other branching halls that led to the different wings of the ever-expanding house.

She walked in silence for several minutes before the ornately carved double doors of the study finally came into view, causing her to come to a halt. Taking out her phone, she opened the camera in selfie mode and used it as a mirror, her free hand adjusting her clothes, ironing out the wrinkles in her clothes before sweeping through her hair, plucking out leaves, twigs and other undesirables that had gotten into her hair during the drive. Giving herself a once over, she breathed in deeply, held the breath for a few minutes and let it out before pushing the doors open, her muscles straining against the weight of the doors; a precaution against the younger occupants of the house.

The opening of the doors announced her presence to the occupants of the room; Hadin, her dad who was currently seated at his desk and penning something down in a book as thick as her skull, and his assistant Rozie who was sprawled out on the fully deployed sofa bed, the gentle rising and falling of her chest indicating that she was asleep.

Closing the doors behind her, Mia took one more deep breath in and let it out, her mask dispensing another dose as her heart sped up, a lance of fear spearing through her heart as Hadin raised his head as the doors closed, his obsidian eyes locking onto her. His eyes were empty, devoid of anything that she could even remotely call human. His eyes traced every movement she made, taking in every breath, every muscle twitch and spasm. She could feel him measuring her worth, silently judging. She hated his eyes. Hated the fact that they looked at her like she was lesser. Like she was never enough. But most of all, she hated the fact that she didn’t have eyes like that.

She watched as Hadin placed the pen down and closed the book, the fear only growing as his attention was now fully focused on her. Her breathing grew heavy as her vision swam, the fear only mounting as everything inside of her screamed at her to get out and never come back.

“Mia,” his voice sent involuntary shivers down her spine. “Before we start, I take it that you delivered my message?” he asked, referring to the piece of paper that she had slipped to the senior at school.

“Yes sir,” she replied, doing her best to imitate his tone while straightening her posture and squaring her shoulders in an attempt to make herself look more confident, less scared. She couldn’t let him see that she was scared, that she could stand on equal ground with him.

“Good,” he opened the book once again and penned down a few words before closing it again, his face maintaining the same stoic expression as he put the book into the desk drawer, locking it with a satisfying click before finally turning his attention to her. “You called this meeting. Why?”

“My condition,” she answered, struggling to push past the fear and speak to him like an equal. Reaching towards her face, she pulled down her mask to reveal the disfigured half of her face, eyes searching for any sign of disgust on her father’s face. Finding none, a sense of comfort bloomed in her chest, the warm emotion helping combat the fear that was still trying to worm its way into her heart. She knew what to expect from him, but the fact that he had never displayed any sign of disgust towards her always gave her a sense of security. She knew it was wrong; testing him like that. She knew it was a sign of weakness, of her insecurities that she worked so hard to crush, but she couldn’t help it.

“What of it?” his voice cut through her, bringing her back to the present and those dead eyes.

“As you know, I have been researching my condition, poring over every medical textbook and site possible, even going as far as searching some less savory and legal parts of the internet,” she began, laying out everything she had done in her quest for answers.

“And?” he asked, his tone evident that he wanted her to get to the point.

“I found nothing. Whatever is going on with me, it is either so rare that there are no other cases in recorded history or simply doesn’t exist,” she finished, fixing her gaze on him.

“If your research has proven fruitless, then what gives you the assumption that I would know anything about your condition?” Hadin asked, a hint of curiosity creeping into his voice; a good sign.

“Once I took time to look at the facts, everything started pointing to you,” she told him. “Anytime a new problem related to whatever this is,” she points to a part of her face, indicating to a piece of throbbing discolored flesh on her face, “You’ve always known what to do and provided me with the required information and equipment. From the mask, to the drugs and advice. Everything points to you knowing more about what is going on with me than anyone."

Hadin sat in silence for a while before speaking, “It took you far longer than necessary to connect the relevant information. It was an error to believe that you would come to me sooner” his words cut through Mia like a hot knife through butter, deflating whatever sense of self-worth and confidence that she had managed to build up during this meeting.