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Rumours were spreading. Horrible rumours Anna suspected had been started or at least helped by Daisy. About her and Blackburn. They had been rampant, inevitably, ever since their return from Stow, but now, half a year later, they were growing, spreading like wildfire. Whispers about her visiting him late at night (clearly Daisy had noticed her absence the other week when she had confided how she felt to him). There were mutters on the way he watched her, as if they shared a heavy secret, and gossip about some snatched glimpses of the bruises she had tried to cover up. On her arm where he had grappled with her, added to those in the past that people had seen, or claimed to have seen, particularly marks from her being strapped down whilst he had operated on her foot, to insert that infernal tracker.

There was also talk, a lot of talk, about an incident that had happened recently and no one knew how. "They just stopped advertising, went completely blank, and started projecting the Ghost's words" Daisy was saying. She was talking about skyboards, large, mobile advertisement boards that blocked out the sky above major cities. They had, apparently, gone utterly blank the other day and then filled out with the words:
'THE GHOST IN THE MACHINE
IS WATCHING
THE WATCHERS'.
It had not just been in their city either but all across the Western hemisphere. Then they had become bright as suns, gleaming in magnificence before shattering at the apex, destroying the boards. Although the events had been hushed in the Spire, word had got through and suddenly it was all anybody spoke of. The Ghost had become a sort of superhero, a kind of modern-day Robin Hood with people rising up and speaking against corporations. It was amazing. And no one had a clue how it had all been done, all the boards attacked in a single moment. The techs had no idea. Anna doubted even Blackburn could have engineered such a feat, although he certainly seemed very unhappy. It was odd, the Ghost matched his values, she'd sat through enough rants about the importance of having a computer in her head, how corporations owned her and placed no value on human lives. Surely such an event, a punch at the corporations would make him happy? But if anything his mood seemed to have darkened.

But now it was vacation. Anna was simultaneously excited and dreading it. She would have a chance to get away from Blackburn but would have to spend time with her horrendous parents. She hadn't actually seen them for two years. They had ignored her when she had returned, her mother sending her a printed formal letter apologising for her absence as she had a meeting to attend, and her father insisting on a meditation session so their 'souls' could meet long distance whilst not having to actually see her. Blackburn called a meeting with her shortly before they were due to part. He had dark circles under his eyes and she wondered what it was that was troubling him. The Ghost perhaps? "Come in, come in" he gestured for her to close the door, which she did with some trepidation.

"What is it Sir?" she asked.
"I wanted to have a chat with you, to ensure you understood exactly what I expect of you this vacation. You are going to have to remain very quiet when you reach the inevitable nannies your good-for-nothing parents are gonna give you instead of their own presence" he sounded rather bitter on her behalf. He did, after all, know all about her personal life and her relationship with her parents. "Vacation is a week long. The first two days you will spend with them. The rest, with me." She gaped at him, furious.
"Forget it. No way in hell. Over my cold, dead body."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Well that's exactly what it will be unless you do exactly as I tell you!" He bit down on the words, spitting them out. "That was the agreement was it not? I can't afford to have you out of my sight for long, away from any reminders my presence may provide. So you go home for long enough to avoid suspicion, then you inform them you are seeing a friend. I will re-programme your location in your processor to somewhere suitable and you will stay at my apartment where I can keep an eye on you." He glared at her, daring her to disagree. She was happy to.
"I don't want to."
He scoffed. "What you want is irrelevant. You will do it. Besides, what have you got to look forward to at home? They will have fired, what was her name? The maid you had, the one who baked those cookies." She was surprised he'd remembered such trivial information, she had only let it slip once. Then again, on Stow there had been precious little else to think about.
"Myra."
"Yeah her. You said so yourself, she was the only reason you went home and she'd be fired after Stow, they thought you were dead." He did not seem aware of the effect his words were having on her, the way her eyes felt heavy, welling up with tears. Yes. Her parents didn't love her, they didn't care. And it hurt. She had long since numbed the pain, blocked it out from reaching her, much as signals could be blocked, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. It hurt so much. And Myra had been her one friend, like a mother to her, with her warmth and kindness, she made it seem like more than just a job, like she actually cared. But Anna had correctly guessed that once her mother thought her dead, whilst on Stow, Myra would be dismissed. And they would not re-hire her. No way. Her parents were all for new blood. When something was no longer useful and you then needed it again, you simply replaced it with a newer model. But it was painful to hear him speak these truths so uncaringly, so unflinchingly. She suspected that, although he seemed oblivious, he was well aware of the effect he was having on her with these words.

"Besides, it is only five days. That is nothing!" It was indeed nothing, she knew. Nothing compared to the insane amount of time they had spent in each other's company. But after so long, it seemed unbearable. "Fine" she snapped as she felt the emotion overwhelm her. She needed to get out of here. Perhaps her father would actually be there to greet her when she returned. Oh gosh she was going to have to spend five days with this man! She steadied her breathing, reminding herself she had spent many nights tied tightly next to him but after half a year of relative freedom, she was finding even this incarceration with him difficult. She turned to go- "Anna". She stilled and listened as his words crashed down.
"If you do not turn up by noon on the third day, I will come and get you". His tone made it clear she would not want that to happen. She had suspicions that were it to come to that, he would discard her as untrustworthy and she would not escape death a second time. "Fine. Don't worry, I'll be there", she uttered in disgust.

She was home. The whitewashed walls, the fancy pillars, it was just as she remembered. Bittersweet. A man in a poor quality suit stepped down the steps towards her and shook her hand. "Good day Miss Faeilr" he announced, "it is good to see you home safely. Your mother sends her apologies but she is in Paris for the night at a board meeting. She will be here tomorrow however. Your father is in his study although he shall see you later." She bit her lip, swallowing back the disappointment. Of course they were not here. "Who are you?"
"My name is Samuel and I have been employed to ensure your safe stay." She rolled her eyes, as if he could keep her safe. She was no child. She was 22 and been through more than her parents had in all their lives. "Thank you" she muttered, "please take the bags to my room". She stormed up the stairs, aware of how she looked. The well-bred hussy who thought she was too good for the Help. In a way it was true. She could not bring herself to care about Samuel, the man who had replaced Myra and was simply getting paid to provide what her own damn parents would not.

She marched up to her father's study, the oak door bearing his name on a small, golden plaque. Once she would have not dared interrupt him, would wait dutifully for an appointment. But she was not the same girl she had been. She was a woman. She had changed. She banged on the door, not waiting for a response and charged in. Her father, ever eloquent, sat at his desk, his brown hair tied back, interacting with a strange glowing object that seemed fluid in the same way that the wax in lava lamps becomes so.
"Father." He glanced up, brow furrowed in consternation as he saw his only daughter. She had grown taller in two years, her cheeks had become firm, sharper and her eyes fierce. Her lips were thin and clenched, her stance slightly wide, providing good balance and she seemed to have a restless energy about her. As if she was expecting an attack. Yet at the same time she also appeared closed off, like she was full, overflowing to the brim but not allowing any of her emotions to spill. She looked as if she could remain motionless, docile for hours, apathetic but always ready.
"Anna, what are you doing barging in here without warning?"
"I gave you warning".
"You knocked." His firm, disapproving tone softened as he seemed to realise what he was doing. "How are you?"
It was so bloody formal. She knew what her answer should be. "I'm fine Father, thank you for asking. How are you?" But she could not bring herself to say it thought the words hovered insubstantially on her lips. "I, I I'm doing well at calistenics", she grasped at the one thing she could cling to that would keep the conversation safe. She grimaced, disappointed with herself. "I'm tired Father." She opted for some honesty. It was a new approach, one she had not had the opportunity to try before as her time with him was always so limited. "I don't want to be at the Spire anymore." Her heart automatically sped up as this was treacherous territory. If her Father ever tried to pull her out, she would be leaving and it would be open-season for Blackburn. At that moment, looking at the stranger in front of her she found herself thinking of the stranger she saw in the mirror every night, and could not bring herself to care about the danger.
"I see". He sounded disapproving. "And you think that your happiness is an acceptable reason to forfeit such an opportunity, after all the destruction you have already caused this family's reputation with your reckless behaviour with the blogging?"
She scowled. "Actually Father, I do. My happiness is just as important as yours. And you know what, I am not going to pull out of the Spire, I can't. It was a condition of the authorities that I attend, but you can shove your self-righteous, miserable reputation right up your arse!" Her voice heightened in pitch as, for the first time in her life, she yelled at him. "I haven't seen you in two bloody years and you haven't changed a bit! You don't give a damn about me do you? Not a farthing! I was on a desert island for a long time, but you haven't even asked. You haven't asked what it was like, what I learned to do, how I coped. I'm just a failed project to you aren't I?" Tears pricked her eyes as she waited for his response. Her rage made her forget her well drummed in, intrinsic fear of fighting his authority.

"I see your little stint on that island has affected your mind. You are more in tune with your baser animal self than is natural, you are feral and chaotic. I shall inform the Spire to resume their counselling of you. Your state has corroded and clearly become inferior. We must work hard if we are to maintain the pretence that you are not." He never raised his voice, his tone barely changed.
"Ooh in all your stupid psychology textbooks and courses, all your little hobbies, did you never learn about love? About loving your child?" He stared at her sternly, silent for an entire minute, pondering.
"There is a theory that if you do not show love to a child, it will die. But it has never been proven. You, have disproved it. Your mother and I decided to test it out. I got her pregnant, but we never showed you anything that could be deemed emotional love."
Anna gaped at him, shock resonating through her body. She felt sick. "What?" she breathed.

Her father sighed. "Well you had to find out some time. Of course, your ability to survive may well be due to friendships and other such love, we could not isolate you from the world, although we certainly talked to any friends you managed to make, told them to stay away from you. But we made sure never to show you affection, not that it was difficult." He looked at her in disgust, his lip curling. "You naturally had Anxious-Avoidant Insecure Attachment as a child, as classified by Mary Ainsworth, but you never died. It was fascinating, watching you grow up, with material wealth and privilege, but without support." Anna remembered the rumours that had followed her throughout her life. That she had nits, that she was insane, that she had no soul. They had led to some severe bullying incidents, even causing her to be pulled out of one boarding school. It was true that materially, she had never wanted for anything, and yet she had had no friends. Not even people after her just for her money.

She had made one once, a girl with fair blonde, cottony hair, called Isabelle. They had started to hang around at school and it was the first time Anna had felt truly able to laugh in the presence of another. It was amazing, being able to make someone giggle, to be able to share secrets, have a connection. Even when everyone else avoided her, Isabelle would sit with her at meals, read with her. Then, she remembered bitterly, it had all changed. She had mentioned her new friend with great delight, in one of her letters home. She had quickly received a response which was unusual, from her mother, asking her who her friend was and all sorts of details. Thrilled to have her mother's attention she had complied, detailing everything she wanted to know. Soon after Isabelle had been taken out of school, her father could no longer afford to pay the fees, something catastrophic had happened financially. Anna had been devastated and received a letter marked with her friend's curly handwriting, stating that Anna should not be upset, because it had all been fake anyway. She had been paid to be her friend, it said. She was relieved to go and be able to live her life without a clingy know it all following her around like a lost dog. Anna had sobbed, ten years old and made to tear the pages up. But she had not been able to bring herself to do so, even though the contents were horrible, she had known that it would be the last link to her friend. She had written back of course and received no reply. But she now remembered something else, something that suggested her friendship had been very real. It had certainly been her friend's handwriting, but they had had a secret. At the boarding school they would pass notes, and Isabelle always signed her's with a small flower, signifying it was from her and not made up by the other girls. Anna's insignia had been a scythe. She wasn't sure why she had chosen that, but the letter had not had a flower on it. It was possible Isabelle had been made to write the letter but had neglected to put her mark on, to show she didn't mean it.

Her vision spiralled as she realised with mounting horror, what she had always known. She was a case-study, truly a project, an experiment and her parents didn't love her. To hear her father speak of it just made it more real. She spent the night in the attic, sobbing over the case notes she had been given. She threw the pages down in rage, screaming, and picked one up at random to read it. Its colouring was yellowed by time and she could see her father's neatly slanted handwriting marking it. 12th May. The subject is two years old and three months. She is still avoidant and does not maintain eye contact. She can talk, in small phrases but chooses not to. She spends time playing in an imaginary world. The supervisors [her parents] have had to replace the subject's nannies every two months to stop her becoming attached. When the subject is eight years old, it is planned to provide a permanent nanny, after the critical age has been passed. The subject obeys authority without question. She delves and retreats into her head and imagination.

So it continued. 14th November. The subject is eight years old and nine months. She is at her third boarding school and is doing well, particularly in English and drama. She struggles in social relationships with other children and is experiencing bullying. She was approached by a boy who was friendly to her [as detailed by her teacher Ms Hawton]. The boy's parents will be spoken to and he will be encouraged to avoid her. Physically the subject is slightly overweight but developing naturally. She is still periodically seen to by her nanny [Myra Ponston] who appears to be attached to her. This attachment will be allowed to continue in order to study a single base of affection after the critical period. When the subject sees the supervisors [her parents] she still craves affections but is formal as expected. She does not maintain eye contact.

9th July. The subject is fourteen years old and five months. Subject is at her sixth boarding school. She is subdued and unresponsive to attempts to befriend her, believing them to be ploys. She has started showing interest in males, particularly celebrities but is unable to express her emotions towards them as she has no friends. Therefore she reflects her feelings onto celebrities. Subject is showing many signs of empathy and compassion for others, particularly being curious about the events that occurred in the Middle East.

Her whole life was laid out. Up to her enrolling in Camco: Experiment terminated. Subject no longer useful, too many extraneous variables. Her parents had not been paying close attention to her, but they had, had informants, teachers, to give these little updates every so often. It was sick. It was appalling. It was soul-destroying. She was the one project her father had stuck at.

The next day her mother arrived. Her elegant, blonde hair flowing in the wind. She wore dark makeup and heavy leather boots, at odds with her suit and tie. She strolled up to her father and kissed him, then turned her attention to Anna to whom she nodded, and whirled onwards. Anna's hair was shaggy and stray after a sleepless night and she had dark circles under her eyes. She followed her mother's footsteps into the living room and sat on one of the pristinely white sofas, ordering the maid to leave them be. "Mother. Mum. How are you?" she asked, wanting to pretend for a moment that it was all a bad dream. Her mother looked disapproving at the dismissal of the maid but gave Anna her attention, scrutinising the way she held herself, sheltered and hunched after last night's revelation, but still steady in her core. "I am well thank you Anna. And yourself?" she could have been spouting numbers for all the emotion in those words. Anna knew her mother could be warm, cold, lofty and passionate in front of others but it was all a front, and at home she dropped it. "Father told me, about the experiment. Why you never showed love." Her voice cracked at the word. Her parent simply passively stared on, tightening her mouth slightly as her only reaction. "I see. And?"
"And, and, the experiment", she spat out the word like poison. "It is over now. I know about it. You can stop the pretence, you can, you can love me." She hated herself for asking, for mentioning it and wanting it, but she had to ask. Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Okay, there is no pretence Anna. You don't seem to understand. The experiment was interesting, something to keep your father happy, but I have never been too invested. Love is overrated. What does it mean anyway?" she scoffed. "Foolish. You are a stupid child who wants to be told the world is all rainbows and butterflies? Forget it." She swept on, a whirlwind, refusing quarter, denying Anna a chance to absorb this fresh blow. "You have material possessions, health and schooling. That is all you need, what more could you want? Don't be so ungrateful. You were born into this family, you have burdened us with your existence, so you will uphold our reputation and honour and forget this ridiculousness of love. The world is an act can you not see that? But your father and I, we have never been acting with you. Treat it as a gift. Now. I am tired from my trip. You may report to me in two hours. Have Samuel cook you something up if you are hungry. And do something about your hair, it is hideous." She left the room, Anna already forgotten as she stood there shaking.

She left that afternoon. She was not supposed to be at the Spire until the following day but she could not bear to spend any more time with those people. It was a strange day, she thought, wryly, when she would prefer to spend time with Blackburn. So she told her parents she was visiting a friend. Her mother had protested, stating that she had arranged for Anna to see a beautician, and her father was angry about the short notice but she had shouted them down, leaving in fury, but glancing back. She felt like it would be the last time she ever saw them and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. The vactrain took her to the Spire quickly and by 23.00 that night she had made her way to his apartment. Sighing she banged on the door and waited for it to open, the many locks clinking as they were meticulously undone.