Chapter 3: The Mind-Reading Gambit

His eyes narrowed, scanning the room like he was searching for someone hiding in plain sight. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

I froze. Completely.

Every muscle in my body went stiff, like I’d been caught sneaking out past curfew. Something was definitely off.

[What’s with Dad? Is he losing it? Or is it something else?]

I glanced at Elliot, who looked just as confused. No one had said a word, but Dad acted like we’d been shouting.

[No one was talking—who’s he telling to shut up?]

I replayed the moment in my head, searching for any sign I’d missed. The silence was absolute.

[Could it be…?]

A wild thought sparked. What if Dad could hear what I was thinking? No way… right?

Thanks to years of reading sci-fi novels, inspiration struck. Could Dad have a cheat too? Did he wake up with mind reading?

It sounded crazy, but after everything I’d seen, nothing was off the table. Maybe Dad had his own secret weapon.

Curiosity burning, I looked up at him and shouted in my mind: [Dad, Dad, look at me—look at your good son! Can you hear me?]

I focused all my energy, willing the thought to reach him. My heart pounded—half hope, half fear.

Up on the dais, Dad rubbed his temples and actually turned his gaze to me. My breath caught.

His eyes locked onto mine, sharp and searching. For a second, it felt like he could see straight through me.

Whoa. That’s wild. Seriously.

A chill ran down my spine. If he really could hear me, what else did he know?

[Dad, mind reading, mind reading—you really got mind reading? That’s incredible!]

I grinned, unable to help myself. This changed everything.

I was thrilled. For the first time in a long time.

For the first time in ages, hope bubbled up inside me. Maybe we finally had a fighting chance.

In my last life, after being framed by Elliot and after Mom’s death, I was cut off. Then killed by Elliot’s people.

I remembered the cold, the hunger, the loneliness. It was a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Not even myself.

Now, coming back at this exact moment, I’d been worrying how to avoid disaster. But now Dad could read minds.

It was like the universe had handed me a lifeline. Maybe this time, things would turn out differently.

Ha! Unbelievable.

I almost laughed out loud. The relief was dizzying.

With Dad able to see the truth, what do I have to worry about? Let Elliot try his tricks now.

I straightened up a little, confidence creeping back in. Let Elliot try his tricks now.

[Dad, it’s so great you woke up with mind reading! You have to see the truth. This was all Elliot’s scheme to set me up. Don’t, like last time, cut me off and throw me out. Dad, you don’t know—this world is about to face disaster. The Four-Nation Alliance, the invaders—they’re ruthless. They want our land and our people. You must…]

I pictured the wars, the treaties, the faces of those who fought and died. I tried to pour every ounce of urgency into my thoughts. Hoping Dad would understand.

Images from my years as a ghost flashed through my mind—bombs, children on bayonets, women brutalized, men bleeding, and countless determined faces running into the fire.

The memories hit me like a freight train—so vivid I almost smelled the smoke and blood. I wanted Dad to feel it too. To know what was at stake.

“Thud!”

A heavy sound snapped me out of it. I saw Dad’s body sway.

His face went slack, eyes rolling back. The whole room seemed to tilt as he staggered.

“Dad!”

I lunged forward, arms outstretched, catching him just before he hit the floor. Panic surged through me.

“Dad! What’s wrong?”

My voice cracked, fear clawing at my throat. I shook his shoulders, desperate for any sign of life.

Elliot cried out, shoving me aside: “Someone, call the doctor!”

He barked orders, his mask of composure slipping. For once, I saw real fear in his eyes.

Dad slept for three whole days.

The house fell into a hush, everyone tiptoeing around as if afraid to wake him. The clocks ticked louder. The phone rang off the hook with worried relatives.

During that time, Elliot took over the house. I was locked up for ‘colluding with foreign agents,’ unable to move around.

They stuck me in the old guest room, windows nailed shut. Meals were brought on a tray. The only visitor I got was the family dog, who snuck in when no one was looking.

Mom was powerless. She could only kneel in the church every day, praying for my name to be cleared.

She lit candles at the altar, whispering my name with every prayer. The pastor tried to comfort her, but I saw the worry etched deep in her face.

Elliot was just like in my last life, still hoping I’d work for him. But I knew he’d never be a real leader.

He sent notes, promises of forgiveness if I’d just cooperate. I tore them up, stuffing the pieces under my mattress.

Especially after what I saw as a ghost, I saw Elliot’s true colors even more clearly.

I knew the kind of man he’d become. Selfish, short-sighted, always grasping for more.

If not for his stubbornness—shutting down the research lab and banning public schools—Liberty America wouldn’t have fallen so far. Wouldn’t have become a puppet state.

He thought he was saving the family’s reputation, but all he did was cripple the country’s future. I vowed never to let him make the same mistakes again.

So I’d already written him off. For good.

I made a mental note to keep my distance, no matter what deals he offered.

But now, with Dad in a coma, for the sake of my own life, I could only pretend to side with Elliot. Hand over the full soap formula.

I copied out the recipe in careful handwriting, leaving out just enough detail to keep him guessing. It was a gamble, but I had no choice.

Elliot was thrilled. Treated me a little better.

He sent better food, loosened the rules. For a moment, I almost believed he cared.

I still wasn’t free, but at least I had what I needed. Mom was safe for now.

That was all that mattered. I’d bide my time until Dad woke up.

The turning point came the day Dad woke up. Everything changed.

The whole house buzzed with rumors. The maids whispered in the hallway. The butler polished Dad’s shoes twice, just in case.

Elliot, bitter and scheming, warned me: “Jackson, Dad wants to see you. Remember, watch your mouth when you’re with him.”

He leaned in, voice low and threatening. "One wrong word, and you’re finished," he hissed.