And survival, Reika realized, staring at her reflection in the dark window of her bedroom, is not the same as living.
One night, she found an old photograph. She was four, face smeared with chocolate, screaming with laughter as her father held her upside down. She stared at it for a long time. She understood the concept of happiness . She could define it, diagram it, write a three-page essay on its neurochemical basis. But the feeling itself was like trying to remember a dream that had never been hers. Mdg 115 Reika 12
Her mother, Ayumi, cried when she saw the results. “She’s cured,” she whispered into her phone, voice cracking with joy. “She’s normal.” And survival, Reika realized, staring at her reflection
She was also empty.
Who are you?
