The System's Cruel Canvas

t ache that was a familiar companion. Before my eyes even fully opened, I pushed myself up, ignoring the wave of

my fingers fumbling as I tried to pull up my rideshare app. My hand

de my head. It was metallic, devoid of

h defiance. The System was a constant presen

not yet found his true happiness with Sa

I was now. I, Chloe Reed, a supposedly gifted artist, was n

sive hematopoietic disorder. They gave him months to live. I was shattered, desperate. And in that desperation, the System appeared. It offered me a deal: a cure for Alex, a guaranteed recovery. The price? I had to bind with it, play a part in its pre-written narrative

How could I not?

arah Jenkins entered our lives, a ray of sunshine with a perfect smile and an unnerving ability to be in the right place at the right ti

swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor a shock to m

e stood there, tall and imposing in a dark coat, his handsome face a mask of cold fury. His eyes, the s

ou're going?" his voi

my own voice b

on the bruises on my arms from the other night, the night I' d gotten into a drunken fight at a bar, another "task" o

ld my ground. "I'm sorry," I murmured, the autom

h is worried sick about you. She' s the one who

le I, the wicked sister, dragged our family name

rama, your constant need for attention." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "You want to make things ri

, my soul. Before all this, it was the

ontinued, his voice void of any warmth.

foolish hope flared in my

ill enter, you will make a fool of yourself, and you will ensure that Sarah wins.