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Unbound
Unbound
Unbound
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Unbound

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A scorned twin, athlete, and scientist leaves a trail of death and destruction defending her marvel serum. When a rival company threatens Dr. Mia Peers for her human advancement formula, the scientist uses it herself. But when thugs threaten her family, she must overcome inner demons, make a shocking choice, and break a pattern of mistrust to save her life and career.


When a car accident puts Mia’s twin in a coma, the disfavored teenager adopts her sister’s participation in athletics to earn her parents’ praise. Having never won them over, she competes in professional sports and follows in their footsteps by becoming a scientist. After securing funding for a human advancement serum and showcasing its partial success, a competing company threatens to steal it. Afraid of losing her backers, Mia uses the experimental drug and gains ultrahuman strength and healing.


Mia’s battle to rid herself of threats turns deadly when her attackers kill a bystander attempting to help. With stalwart self-reliance and the need to keep her abilities secret, Mia fights alone to protect the formula. While the enemy regroups, Mia discovers her father’s journal, revealing clues about her parents’ dark past.


But danger looms, and perils increase. As Mia’s world crumbles, she must overcome inner demons, make a shocking choice, and break a pattern of mistrust to save her life and career.


Since her earliest memories, science has called Mia like no other force in the universe. It became her life’s ambition and profession. She refers to it as The Reason.


Interwoven in Mia’s DNA is Unity, Mia’s identical twin. As children, they promised to support and protect each other above all others. She refers to it as The Pact.


Mia’s parents had children after years of failed pregnancies. They favored Unity, so Mia developed a coping mechanism. She refers to it as The Wall.


After a horrific car accident at sixteen, injuries put Unity in a coma, where she has remained for twenty years. Mia adjusted to life without her sister and became a scientist. That’s when her soul’s fourth element appeared. She refers to it as The Choice.


As pressure mounts, Mia must make the ultimate decision: remain a heroine or become a villain.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 16, 2024
ISBN9798988473015
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    Unbound - DJ Baldwin

    PROLOGUE

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    Mia sat beside her sister and considered the merits of parricide. They were on their way to her parents’ favorite activity: watching her twin, Unity, in yet another athletic endeavor. A taekwondo tournament today and a shooting competition tomorrow. A two-day lovefest devoted to her parents’ darling gem.

    It made for a dreadful weekend, and Mia would need a mood stimulator if she wanted to survive and return to school on Monday.

    Are you nervous? asked their father, Jeffrey. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Unity wore her white Gi and pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail with a red scrunchie. I bet you earn your black belt after this.

    I don’t know, Unity said. I seem to have plateaued.

    You’re the best in your dojo, said their mother, Theresa. All the parents say so.

    Bullshit, ‘All the parents say so.’ She’s only a red belt at sixteen.

    Mia eyed her parents and smirked. Jeffrey and Theresa were the type who wore business clothes until bedtime, even on weekends. Perhaps they wanted to flaunt their status as well-known scientists. As if the solar-powered car with those ridiculous winged doors wasn’t already proof of that. They also volunteered and led Unity’s clubs, ruling over the other parents like North Korean generals. Strict adherence to the mission, or else.

    I got an ‘A’ on my physics test, Mia said.

    The self-praise was Mia’s budding dark humor. She would lob grenades at her parents to check another box on the ‘We Love U’ scoresheet. Mia sometimes called Unity ‘U.’ One syllable was better than three, and the letter’s irony symbolized her state of mind about their parenting.

    You’ve never had a ‘B’ in your life. Why is this news? asked Theresa. Her mother and father chuckled.

    Check. As expected.

    Theresa flipped her sun visor over, then applied a layer of dung-shaded lipstick, glancing at Unity. We heard someone was coming from the University of Virginia to watch you today.

    Sensei mentioned it yesterday, Unity said. It’s a club, not a scholarship thing.

    Well, your mother and I are proud of you.

    Unity glanced at Mia, then whispered, Sorry.

    Mia shrugged and peered outside so her parents wouldn’t see her mouth an, Oh, my God. She unzipped her purse and dug for her earbuds.

    Unity had challenged their favoritism when the girls were younger. Their parents seemed speechless when confronted, though, as if their brains had crashed and couldn’t compute.

    Why would her parents adore one sibling and not the other when they were practically the same person? Especially as identical twins? Had Mia done something wrong in early childhood? Did her parents want only one child and resent Mia for existing? For God’s sake, she was first out of the womb, and Mia thought that should have mattered. It hadn’t. Her parents’ loving gaze continued to fall on Unity.

    The only physical difference between the girls was a tiny circular birthmark on Mia’s left forearm. A dot, really. Easily mistaken as a freckle, except for its nearly perfect circumference.

    The twins’ unique personalities became obvious the older they became. At fourteen, the sisters had diverged on separate journeys. They were a classic case of nature versus nurture, genetics warring against environmental influences. Mia concluded she had made a wrong turn somewhere. Something had influenced her preferences, setting her on a less praiseworthy path. She had fallen for all things science while Unity climbed the ranks of athleticism.

    Unity’s participation in sports had her parents in social media paradise. Meanwhile, Mia remained a minor character in a coming-of-age flick. Mia had incorrectly believed that following her parents’ career in science would gel with their passions and earn her some kudos. Nope. They remained laser-focused on Unity all the more. Not once had they uttered praise for Mia’s Honor Society induction, nor the short book she had written as a freshman about altering DNA.

    Over the years, Mia had developed coping mechanisms. It had started with leaving the room. Then, she’d stopped listening to conversations. Now, she grabbed a book or listened to music. Mia referred to those actions as her Wall. She welcomed anything to that barrier as long as it buffered her from the crazies in the front seat and kept her confusing existence safe.

    Eventually, despite The Pact she and Unity had made to protect and support each other, Mia decided the farther away from her sister she could get, the better. Her parents’ praise for Unity ricocheted and became friendly fire that punctured her soul.

    She increased the volume of her noise-canceling earbuds and stared at the passing landscape.

    Music would be Mia’s Wall today to block out the world. That decision explained why she hadn’t heard the screeching tires of a self-driving truck. It was also why she blinked in perplexity when a doctor pointed a light at her eyes.

    PART 1

    CHAOS

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    Chapter 1

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    Twenty Years Later

    Mia caressed her weapon and waited for her turn. In the stands to her left, spectators wore beanies, gloves, and thick coats. Above, the sun was bright, reflecting off gray cirrus clouds. The Blue Ridge Mountains in the distance seemed hazy, yet provided a picturesque backdrop. The wind gusted over the plain before Mia, pushing tan grass back and forth.

    At thirty-six, Mia was losing to a younger rival. This was her eighteenth season, and she figured it was time to call it quits. There were other sports where she was still on top. Those were dwindling, too. The body’s degeneration was natural as it succumbed to age, and Mia was doing everything possible to slow that process.

    After graduating from college and taking over her parents’ lab a decade ago, Mia researched how to maximize human physiology and cognition. She called that obsession her Reason, which dominated her life like no other force in the universe. Her participation in sports served that effort and more. Before improving upon the body, she needed to use it and push it to its limits. Only then could Mia gather the knowledge she couldn’t learn from books.

    Mia Peers, said the announcer. Mia knew she was next to go and bobbed her head at the formality.

    Faking an injury occurred to her. She wasn’t a quitter, though, and would rather die before taking that route.

    There were no wind coaches for individual events in this sport, so Mia computed those herself. She preferred it that way. Standing, she adjusted her reverb earmuffs and left the preparation area. Mia took several minutes to get comfortable in a prone position on the mat. Her breathing was sporadic. However, she wouldn’t blame today’s outcome on her inability to steady her weapon.

    She jammed the rifle butt into her shoulder, exhaled, then zeroed in on the target. A pause, then Mia pulled the trigger.

    The crowd gasped and cheered. Mia’s unvanquished world went out of focus because the celebration wasn’t for her. After all these years on top, a youngster had knocked her from the podium.

    Once the applause subsided, several fans in the crowd cheered her name. She tipped the bill of her hat, then curtsied for them.

    Mia disassembled her gun, then secured it in its case. It might be years before she got the weapon out again. This could have been her final sponsored competition, if not the end of participation altogether. Why should she take part if she couldn’t dominate?

    It wasn’t the right moment to decide that, though. Mia’s mind was still reeling, and she couldn’t grasp losing and what it signified.

    To her right, the winner’s family hugged and cried. Mia had never experienced that kind of support, especially from family.

    Mia went to congratulate the girl, standing behind the media until the new winner spotted her. With wide eyes, the young girl hurried to Mia.

    Congratulations, Mia said. You deserve it. You had a successful day.

    Thank you. I have to admit I’m shocked. I’ve followed your entire career. How did you do it, stay at the top for so long?

    The question was unexpected, and Mia froze. Aspiring to be polite, the best she could say was, Keep at it, and don’t quit. They shook hands, then the girl skipped to her parents.

    Interviews were the worst for losers. Mia answered questions from the wannabe journalists. She was still a celebrity, though, and losing was newsworthy. But the bona fide networks wanted to interview the new champion. It hurt.

    Hey, Mia. Can I get an autograph?

    She laughed, then ambled toward her number one fan, Tom, and his two groupies. These hunks were in their twenties. Mia couldn’t remember the last time they had missed a competition. They always asked for autographs, yet never brought merch.

    What am I supposed to sign? Last time, it was your undershirt.

    I have a few ideas, said Tom.

    Keep it clean. Impressionable children are listening.

    They can’t hear us, he said, glancing at the kids surrounding the new winner.

    I’m talking about these two morons. She nudged Tom’s lackeys.

    Tom was the oldest of the three at twenty-nine. He was a player and gave all his targets this level of attention. He had a molten, all-muscle, six-foot, two-inch frame Mia enjoyed exploring. She had never seen him not dressed like a model. He could have been the face of a cigarette company with those cowboy boots, tight jeans, and unbuttoned plaid shirt if not for the fact that the country had outlawed smoking.

    You free tonight? he asked.

    Perhaps, Mia said. As an introvert, she resented that question. Mia didn’t want to make plans with so many hours remaining in the day. And after today’s loss, she couldn’t predict what was in store for her this evening. It was best to stick with her routine. I wouldn’t wait for me, though.

    You’ll never change. You’re keeping me on the hook in case you don’t get a better offer.

    At least you know it. It’s not like you’re any different.

    Tom gave her that seductive smile, that sexy grin that had attracted her years ago. The two were pros at this game, which Mia figured was as enjoyable as the sex. The anticipation and pursuit made each interaction unique.

    She blew a kiss at Tom, then sauntered to her sports utility vehicle. The cranked air-conditioning soothed Mia’s headache as she sank into the leather and closed her eyes. She was approaching midnight in the game of one-night stands. Thirty-six seemed young, but Mia knew the truth. She was aging out of her hobbies. Thank goodness for pushup bras. Those should continue to entice men into her bed before the lights dimmed. For a few more years, anyway.

    Her phone buzzed. It was Sophia from work.

    They all died

    Sophia worked on the weekends, and Mia didn’t know why. She wasn’t getting paid overtime.

    I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll tweak the formula

    Have you considered my idea?

    A second-place finish and now Sophia nagging her about her failed serum. This was why Mia had preferred a one-person lab when she had that luxury.

    Yes and I’m sticking to my plan. Chat tomorrow

    Mia’s sinking mood solidified her decision for the evening’s activity. She drove away and said farewell to the sport she had dominated for nearly two decades.

    Chapter 2

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    Agentle evening breeze had fallen over Northern Virginia, sifting among patrons lounging at picnic tables. Shack-like bars with thatched roofs were placed throughout the property to keep the booze flowing close to customers.

    The brewery Mia frequented most was an expansive piece of land with outdoor seating and a stage. It was also close to Mia’s lab, a significant plus for days when she wanted to drown her sorrows and people-watch. On a lucky night, bars were better than watching reality vids. Drunks had mad triggers.

    The place allowed kids, which was okay with Mia—unless their parents sucked, which they often did. Some yahoos ignored their children’s behavior, to the annoyance of guests like her. Mia wasn’t a parent and never would be. However, she knew those who let their kids circle the premises like coyotes on crack weren’t doing it right.

    Alcohol had been Mia’s religion since her second divorce. At this sanctuary, she could hide and avoid talking with people. She preferred solitude while suppressing memories of defeats and husbands.

    Same thing.

    Husband One had graduated top of his class at Harvard Law and was as pretty as he was brilliant. They had been together for three years until Mia surprised him at the office with dinner. He should have been conducting a prep session for a big case the following day, not having sex with a male client.

    Not wanting the persona of an ex-wife, Mia acquired Husband Two. He was an older musician she met at a dive bar. Mia had heard artists were a real roar in bed, which was proven true. However, Mia had grown weary of Rebound’s suffocating loving-kindness. He had a gazillion questions about her life every day. She asked him not to make her talk about work. But his detailed investigations ruined every dinner. He was overwhelming and clingy. She ended the marriage within nine months.

    The divorce had devastated Two, and Mia suggested he write a heartfelt song about it. Of course, he didn’t. Who knew where he could have gone in the industry if he had taken her advice? Tragedy was the soul of the greatest hits.

    Mia carried a ring-sized box of guilt for those pejorative words to her ex. She viewed herself as a better human than that, even if her emotions seemed like air in space…nonexistent.

    Hence, Mia’s preference for whiskey to dull the confusing numbness inside.

    To Mia’s dismay, the final band for the evening covered songs from her parents’ era. She didn’t want to think about them, but the music made it difficult not to. The brain had an annoying way of using songs to unearth one’s deepest memories.

    Theresa and Jeffrey would have gone off the rails if Unity had lost today. They would have invented excuses about cheating, the wind, or a flaw in Unity’s weapon.

    Behind the stage, the sun was setting below the horizon, and Mia upended her seventh whiskey. Ted, another drink.

    Mia figured she shouldn’t linger much longer. She was one quaff past her limit, not that the rule required strict obedience. Work the following day would demand brilliance, and more liquor wouldn’t give her that. Something in her human advancement formula was killing all the specimens, and Mia needed to figure it out. The rats’ deaths were baffling.

    She headed toward Ted for a final swig and to close her tab. Mia tripped over a larger piece of gravel, although she remained upright. The alcohol had hit her harder than usual from soaking in the sun all day at the competition.

    Ted placed his forearms on the counter. Hey there. You’re not leaving yet, are ya?

    It was a big rock, okay? You should have management remove stones that large.

    You didn’t have a problem with large stones a few months ago.

    Oh, please. Yours aren’t that big, and yes, I’m leaving. I’ve got animals to torture in the morning. Hey, don’t make that face. Someone’s gotta do it. We can’t all pour drinks for a living.

    Ted’s eyebrows rose.

    Mia had done it again. Another rude comment she would have to suppress the memory of in the future…with booze.

    Why don’t you hang with me until you can drive?

    I can drive. What’s the saying? ‘You can do anything if you put your mind to it?’ Voilà. Me. Easy. She gestured at herself as if she were the grand prize on a game show.

    You’re easy, that’s for damn sure. You can drive, too, although I don’t know how safe or legal it would be.

    Mia absorbed Ted’s wisdom. She was a grown woman, a professional athlete, and a respected scientist. It would be best if she acted like one. Besides, getting arrested would make national news.

    Perhaps a nightcap would inspire her and give her an epiphany at work. Anything was possible.

    Do you want to come to my place tonight?

    Ted huffed. We slept together once, then you didn’t text me for three months. He closed Mia’s tab and handed her the receipt. Mia crumpled it into a ball and considered throwing it at him. Ted wiped the bar top.

    It’s called a one-night stand for a reason. It meant nothing. Just two bodies doing what the universe designed them for. Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.

    A fight broke out behind the shack, and a woman screamed. Ted bolted from behind the bar, and Mia rounded the corner to see a muscular brute pushing someone to the ground and slapping her face.

    I saw you squeeze his butt! the man said. His tattooed arms bulged from a wife-beater T-shirt.

    Ironic, the shirt.

    Patrons crowded around the two, but nobody intervened.

    Mia shoved her way through the onlookers, then pushed on the beast’s shoulders. He lost his footing in the gravel and tumbled backward.

    He was on his feet in a flash, a raging bull aiming for Mia. Stay the hell out of this, woman! This is none of your concern.

    Is this your wife?

    The woman was being helped to her feet. She brushed off her clothes while crying.

    No, and what’s it to you?

    Then she can second-base anyone’s butt if she wants to.

    The brute swung, and Mia dodged, leaning back to avoid the hit. The moron must have been plastered to swipe at her with all these witnesses.

    Alcohol or not, Mia was prime. She planted her feet in the gravel, then gave the guy a lightning-fast sidekick to the groin.

    The man bent over and grabbed his balls. Mia gave him a left hook to the face, a right jab in the nose, then a left uppercut to his chin. The jerk fell. Then Mia couldn’t resist. She bashed him in the stomach while he was down. He rolled sideways to protect his ribs, and that’s when Mia spanked his butt. Hard, three times. She could feel the pain radiate up her hand over her buzz.

    Spectators applauded, and some laughed. Several broke out of their nervous hesitancy. The asshole struggled to rise. But men pressed him to the ground until an off-duty police officer arrived. The cop glanced at Mia and said he’d talk with her in a minute. Mia acknowledged, then shook her aching hands. She glanced at Ted and tilted her head toward his shack.

    That was insane, Ted said. You box, too? How do you have time to be a scientist and a pro athlete?

    No. I don’t box. Just taekwondo, karate…whatever. And if I had a credit for every time I got that question, I wouldn’t need investors.

    You need some ice?

    Yes, please.

    Mia’s head was spinning. The adrenaline from the fight had cured her mood. I need something else, too. We can rendezvous in your love shack now, or you can come to my place when you get off. And stop worrying. I’ll chat with the police and sober up before heading out.

    Chapter 3

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    The mirror spanning the length of the wall in front of Mia reflected sweaty runners. Despite her small stature, Mia’s pounding feet were the loudest of the bunch. She was hustling, and had been for close to an hour. Cardio wasn’t Mia’s favorite exercise, although it worked miracles through endorphins. She needed those hormones today as much as she needed oxygen.

    Mia increased the speed and incline of the treadmill. She had used this machine so often that it seemed she should own it. Her personal road to nowhere.

    Best Life Fitness, a luxury gym built several years ago near her lab, had all the amenities she deserved: full-time trainers, a café, and an Olympic-sized pool. The gym’s massage parlor was enticing, too, when her favorite masseur was on duty. More than a few times, Nick was Mia’s only cure for strained muscles and sore joints. He offered other handy perks, too. Not on the premises, though. Mia didn’t want to get him fired.

    She wished this gym had existed eighteen years ago when her brain flipped a switch after high school. It would have made competition prep a breeze and The Pact easier to keep.

    The three other walls in the room were glossy white with motivational posters. One picture featured Mia holding a taekwondo trophy. The gym’s corporates had contacted her before they opened several years ago and said they wanted to promote local talent. She got a year’s free membership out of it, so why not? Mia had been desperate for credits.

    The picture needed to come down soon, though. Mia wasn’t the same woman it depicted. The athlete inside that frame was young and on her way to the top. The real Mia was a wandering soul going down a steep amusement park hover-slide who didn’t know what waited for her at the bottom.

    Boredom was a problem on treadmills, so Mia increased the speed again. After working with world-class trainers for years, she still pushed herself beyond her limits. The goal began as not plateauing. Now, the aim was to halt her body’s decline. The effort was like putting out a house fire with a mist bottle.

    Her cross country coach once said, If you can speak a full sentence while running, you’re going too slow. Mia had been struggling to breathe for the last twenty minutes. She also pushed harder because the alcohol the previous night hadn’t vanquished the pang of that deplorable defeat. Not to mention, Ted hadn’t texted her back, and Tom hadn’t responded to her late-night plea for company.

    Mia didn’t relish her growing cougar status. She might have to compromise on that soon. Her types of men were the ones around her now. The romance-book-cover type, so twenty-five-ish. That had been her requirement since earning parole from high school.

    College had given her plenty of boys to play with and had freed Mia from her shackles. She knew she had become unbound at university. Who hadn’t, though? And wasn’t pushing the limits one of the primary purposes of leaving home? That, and getting away from parents? Mia damn well made the most of her time at Hedonism U. College life was classes, studying, sports, and partying. She averaged three hours of sleep per night over four years. That lack of rest had proven providential. Sleep deprivation inspired her blockbuster drug she hoped the Food and Drug Administration would approve soon. That nifty little pill she named Moratusom had also helped secure her current group of investors focused on human advancement research.

    Mia elevated the treadmill’s incline and questioned how high the contraption could go before it got dangerous. What hurt most, her legs, lungs, or the loss?

    The one that begins with an ‘L.’

    She would laugh if she could. Her lungs didn’t have any oxygen to spare, though.

    The men and women around Mia tried to conceal that they were staring at her, mainly via the mirror. She was a celebrity, and whoever they imagined her to be didn’t exist. Their admiration or curiosity bypassed her like air through a butterfly net. Besides, she knew their idolization was only at the surface level, and she was a pro at ignoring people after so many years.

    The attention might also be envy over her level of fitness. Mia liked to toy with those gym members if that was the case. It was a similar game to when she used to throw self-praise grenades at her parents. Mia would challenge those around her to match her pace. More often than not, several egotistical bastards would give in to temptation.

    Once, a man beside her had passed out after increasing his speed and incline each time she did. He had been fit, too. That didn’t matter when his face sported a patch of treadrash. Mia had to sprint from the room to hide her laughter.

    She should have expressed empathy for the guy. She couldn’t, though. Inside her was a dull void, like a knife used once too many times. Her therapist used to ask her what she believed had blunted her emotions. Mia would stare at her with a blank expression, unable to answer.

    A notification chimed over her playlist, and Mia’s spiraling mind returned to its launchpad. She wanted to ignore the message and keep running. But the uphill sprint had gone on long enough. She glanced at her phone. It was her lab assistant, Brian Carter.

    Mia popped the treadmill’s red stop button. The high-pitched motor seemed to convey a weary ‘thank you’ as it decelerated. The pounding of Mia’s feet diminished in sync. Her shins wouldn’t be expressing gratitude later, that was for sure.

    She reset the machine to level three for a brisk cooldown as sweat dripped from her body like a dark rain cloud. Mia wiped her face and hands with a towel, then grabbed the phone. Her DNA unlocked it, and she tapped the text bubble.

    I have something for you when you come in

    Cryptic texts were Brian’s modus operandi. She’d have to have a chat with him about that. He was giving her a migraine.

    Mia had tried getting used to having a staff at work. But it was a daily struggle to share her mental capacity with them. Brian and Sophia could be so needy.

    Mia sighed and stepped off the treadmill. As usual, she ordered breakfast from the gym’s café app, then headed to the locker room.

    Twenty minutes later, she grabbed her vegan smoothie from the to-go shelf.

    Hey, Ms. Peers, said a teenage employee. I saw you on a vid yesterday. You were incredible.

    Thank you. Second place isn’t great, though. Mia was unsure how to make light of the failure. Losing had been a foreign concept up to this point.

    You’ll get ‘em next year.

    Sure.

    Mia headed for the exit. If there was going to be a next year, she would have to get her formula working and secretly use it.

    She exited the gym wearing sunglasses, her heart missing a beat when she couldn’t find her vehicle. Mia arced around the lot until she found it. A black truck had parked in front of her sangria-shaded Zephan 845 and trophy car. A man in a dark, tailored suit stood on the sidewalk by the vehicle, eyeballing her.

    She nodded to the guy as she whistled her car’s identity code. Her vehicle purred to life. The lurker jumped into his truck as Mia drove away.

    You gotta be shitting me.

    But when she checked her rearview mirror, the road was empty. She dismissed the incident as having an overactive imagination. Celebrity status changes a person. There were better things for Mia to focus on besides stalkers. In her case, how to terrorize rats and keep them from dying.

    Chapter 4

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    Mia removed her glasses, then pushed her blonde hair behind her ears. Her pressed white lab coat was crisp from too much starch she hadn’t requested.

    She wanted to give Brian hell for accepting it this way. One of his duties was getting her dry cleaning, so he should have known better. But he had surprised her with those red roses, white wine, and a card that said she’d always be his first-place boss. Brian was adorable but needed to learn how these things worked…red flowers meant passion, and although she liked younger men, Brian wasn’t her type. Since he was tallying dead rats at the moment, she would ask Sophia to break the news to him before he left for the day.

    At least he hadn’t purchased a trophy. She already had hundreds of those scattered throughout her house, dusty from inattentive cleaning.

    At Mia’s age, her eyes were becoming her next biggest concern. She didn’t wear glasses unless her contacts bothered her. Her eyesight reminded her of second place, and she wanted to blame the loss on her vision. But her contacts were nearly bionic, and she could see individual craters on the moon if she wanted. An eye procedure was looking better than ever if she could only get this damn formula to work before funding dried up. She didn’t want to miss a single day at the lab and had no credits to spare for surgical enhancements.

    She peered into the microscope, then pinched her lips together, squinting. Around her, the lab was orderly, with a cacophony of machines whirring, rodents squeaking in their cages, and computer fans straining like tiny jets. A speaker mounted to a wall played a relaxing jazz mix. Sophia and Brian had hinted they wanted to hear something new, but Mia was a creature of habit. Some called it Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. She called it finding one’s groove. It worked for her, so the playlist stayed. They could buy earbuds or get music implants to listen to their own tunes. Headphones were how she had survived.

    Jars, tubes, and instruments filled the lab, with everything in its proper place according to Mia’s strict organizational plan.

    Six months of

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