We … die? If we become human, we die?

Sehun glances at me. He looks as if he is going to ask me a question, but instead of waiting for his words, I say, “It doesn’t matter.”

That information doesn’t matter. I’m not worried about becoming a human. If I become a human, then I won’t be able to stay by Emer’s side. In order to stay by her side, I am going to do my best to remain what I was created to be: an Exon meant to serve the mandates of its leaders.

Compared to Emer, the future of my life isn’t a concern.

But does she really need me? Does she need me to be with her? She is incredibly independent. She hardly relies on anyone, and she scarcely shows any vulnerabilities. Would she care if I became a human? Would she care if I disappeared from her life?

“Let’s get going,” Sehun tells me as he tugs on my sleeve. “They’re gone. Come on. We need to get going. I don’t think we should stay here anymore.”

I follow Sehun as he inches out of the room and back into the computer area. He gestures for me to hurry, and we accelerate our pace as we exit the library. Once outside, Sehun fixes the collar of his jacket before he roughly grabs my arm and pulls me to walk faster. “You better hurry up, Luhan,” he warns me as we walk further and further away from the lavish world of the Government. We take the next train to the Argent region. When we arrive, I walk with Sehun to Hara’s house, and then I head for Emer’s house. As soon as I find myself on the stoop, I raise a hand to ring the doorbell when the door swings open.

“Hi,” Emer breathes. “What were you doing? You were gone for so long, I thought … never mind,” she turns away, the tone of her voice significantly changing into one of adapted nonchalance. “It doesn’t matter. Just get inside, Luhan.” She sticks her head out of the door. “It looks like it’s going to snow.”

I raise my head to see what she is talking about. The snowflakes have returned to blanket the ground. One lands on my eyelashes; I blink it away, and it falls to the gray grass below. I step inside the house, and Emer closes the door behind me as I head for the living room.

I want to tell Emer what happened at the Market, but when I open my mouth, she has already bounded up the stairs. I look down at the floor. It’s not as if Sehun and I uncovered any information that would help her. I don’t have anything worth saying to her.

I gaze up the stairs and at the closed door of her room. I shouldn’t disturb her. She is most likely studying or researching the death of her father. I don’t have the right to waste her time with my unconfirmed theories.

For a whole week, a snowstorm passes over the area. The Argent region gains an approximation of seven inches of snow that, according to Emer, is a rare occurrence for this part of the region. Government machines come to clear the roads, leaving mountains of dirty snow on the corners of neighboring lands. Throughout all this severe weather, Government workers like Emer’s mother aren’t given the privilege to go home for a vacation. Emer’s mother leaves earlier and arrives later than she normally does because the weather serves as an obstacle for travel.

Emer stays in her room for the majority of the day. Her mother has been nagging her to study harder for the national test. She discourages Emer’s suspicion of her father’s death and insists that the result of this test is more important than the mystery of her father’s death. I have heard them quarreling with each other on many occasions, but in the end, Emer is forced to study. She understands that the future is more important than the past.

That does not mean that she doesn’t do her best to solve her father’s death. I know that studying is not all she does in her room; if it were, she wouldn’t keep coming downstairs to see if her mother had spontaneously come home early.

She treats me differently now. There are times when our interactions feel like they should – a conversation between a peer and a junior. At other times, I feel that we are equal, although I should never think that way. Emer and I do not stand on the same ground. We are two completely different creatures. She is human, and I am not.

Yet I feel that the boundary that separates us is slowly dissolving. The dividing line has grown obscure. She keeps me at arm’s length, but she isn’t afraid to talk to me as if we were friends. During those times, my awareness of who I am fades away. I become the human I strive to be, the person that could support her in her times of need.

But that is only an illusion, and when her eyes darken, I know that I am wrong.

One morning when I am making Emer’s favorite cup of hot chocolate, I hear the thud of her footsteps pounding against the stairs. I turn my head to see her wearin