Counterfeit ✓

Chapter 27

HER MOTHER SAT on the edge of the bed. With a smile, Mila stared at her after an eventful day in the city. Just in time, she had made it to the doorstep of the house before the curfew rang.

"You scared us," Mila's mother whispered. "Never try it again."

"I promise. I was late because of the medicines I still had to pick up."

Her mother leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you're safe."

With a small smile on Mila's face, her mother left her familiar room. Mila squeezed the soft sheets. Home. Her familiar environment.

She raised her eyebrow. Her room didn't feel like home as if she'd entered a reality that didn't exist. Mila relaxed. The tensions of the day confused her mind. Of course, this was her home. Her parents were behind the door. Her grandparents too. It seemed ages since she'd seen them.

Smiling, Mila closed her eyes. She was acting like a madman, this evening she had last seen her family. The light on the ceiling flickered. Frowning, Mila stared at the lampshade. After her mother left her room, she turned off the light, didn't she?

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes a second time. She wasn't losing her mind yet. Images of a camp overwhelmed her memory. Mila had never experienced such a nightmare that seemed lifelike, she clung to the sheet. The softness was long gone. She looked around, blinking. Her room was spinning. The camp mingled with the bed in her bedroom.

The earlier events had a strange effect on her. Mila confused her haven with some treehouse camp. She was already imagining her grandfather laughing at her in the morning when she told her that dream.

Her mattress pressed against her back. Mila put her hands on the top, which felt icy cold, her bed had always given her the warmth she needed. And only yesterday, she had told her grandfather that her mattress was too soft.

Mila bit the inside of her cheek. Could she stay with her family if she was losing her mind? She didn't want to cause them any trouble. Opening her eyes, Mila urged herself to calm down.

Suddenly, folders lay on the table in the corner of her room, Mila had never seen them before. Maybe they were her mother's. NMP. The curled letters covered the front of the folder and the letters made her feel familiar.

However, her mother had never talked about NMP before, or whatever it meant. Mila rubbed her forehead. She had no fever. After watching that boy die in line, too much tension ran through her body, it was the only explanation Mila could find for her crazy delusions.

Once she tried to imagine the boy, she saw the face of another one. One she hadn't seen before and yet was recognizable. Mila took a deep breath in and out, she needed her sleep for the next coming days. Her grandmother might need other medicines, and she was the only one who was fast enough.

The light flickered again. Mila had had enough. She pushed the sheet away and got out of bed. She couldn't step forward. A glass wall stopped her. Trying to raise her arms, Mila stiffened. They were all tied up.

Her room disappeared. Slowly, Mila looked left and right. The glass dome covered her entire body, her wrists and feet tied. A cord stretched around her forehead. Mila was in some giant lab tube.

This was something completely different from her room. The camp. Oliver. Her memories of yesterday trickled into her brain. The chip. All the new information overwhelmed her. She had no idea what was real or what wasn't. Breathing in and out, Mila narrowed her eyes.

She hoped she'd end up in her room again, but nothing could be further from the truth. The bread. The medicines. Mila had never made it past curfew, the pressure of the man's hand made her mouth itchy.