My father, Terence Locke, is covered in mud. He grabs my shoulders desperately, and his eyes are bloodshot.

He says, "Emma, my company has gone bankrupt, and I accidentally killed a business rival. You have to run away with me."

I believe him.

Suppressing my fear, I follow him deep into the untouched mountains. To find food for him, I eat bugs and drink dirty water.

When a pack of wolves closes in on our cave, my first instinct is to stand in front of him.

"Dad, I'll lure them away. Run!"

I look back at him one last time before finally making up my mind to trade my life for his.

But after I leap off a seemingly bottomless cliff and fall to a pulp on the rocks below, I somehow "see" him inside a slowly descending helicopter. He is popping a bottle of champagne in celebration.

At that moment, I finally understand everything.

The whole desperate escape over the past few days that ultimately pushes me to sacrifice my life is nothing more than a reality show staged by him.

He is merely putting on a performance, while I am truly dead...

Three days ago, I was at school cramming for my finals when my dad, Terence Locke, suddenly burst into the classroom. He was unshaven and wild-eyed as he grabbed my arm and dragged me out.

He said his company had gone bankrupt and that he owed several million dollars to loan sharks. If he couldn't pay it back, they were going to chop off our hands and feet.

I believed him. After all, the way he cried looked so real, and his hands were shaking like crazy.

We escaped into a forest deep in the mountains.

For the past three days, the rain had been pouring down. Ever since I drank that half bottle of water Dad handed me, my head had been heavy and foggy, like someone had stuffed something inside my skull.

The water had a faintly bitter taste, but Dad said it was spring water from the mountain.

I hadn't eaten in two days. I was seeing double, my ears were ringing, and even the wind sounded like a shrill, ghostly scream.

We hid in a damp, freezing cave.

Dad wolfed down the last half of the energy bar I'd saved, crying as he ate. "Emma, I'm so sorry for making you suffer through this with me."

I leaned against the rock wall. My vision was going dark, and I didn't even have the strength to lift my hand. I wanted so badly to sleep, but I didn't dare.

I clutched a sharpened wooden stick in my hand, and my nails dug into my palm. I used the pain to force myself to stay awake.

Just then, the wolves came.

In truth, I could barely see anything. The heavy rain blurred my eyes, and it didn't help that the strange, dizzy spell was washing over me. All I could make out in the darkness were a dozen or so pairs of glowing green eyes and the nauseating stench of blood.

The ringing in my ears drowned out everything else; I couldn't hear the faint mechanical whirring beneath it all and simply assumed it was the low, rumbling growl of wild beasts.

Dad was so terrified that his legs gave out. He collapsed to the ground, babbling incoherently, "It's over… We're doomed… They're going to tear us to pieces…"

I stared at the dark shapes closing in. My heart was pounding. I wasn't afraid of dying. I was afraid of him dying.

Mom died when I was young. Dad had raised me alone, playing the roles of both mom and dad. He was always busy with his business and hardly ever around, but I knew he loved me.

That was enough.

I grabbed a burning branch from the fire. Adrenaline momentarily overwhelmed the weakness in my body.

"Dad, run!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. Then, using every last bit of strength I had, I lunged out through the crack in the rocks.

To the left was a gentle slope—the only route Dad had to escape. To the right was a sheer drop and a dead end. If I ran left and the wolves couldn't catch me, they would just turn around and go after Dad.

I didn't hesitate for even a heartbeat as I spun around and charged toward the cliff edge on the right. I was going to lure the wolves down a dead-end path and cut off any chance they had of turning back.

Those "wolves" took the bait as I'd hoped, letting out howls as they all wheeled around and tore after me.

Behind me, Dad's voice floated over lazily. "Hey, don't run out of frame. There aren't any cameras over there…"

The wind was too loud, and my head was foggy. I didn't catch what he said at all. All I heard was the sound of urgent footsteps coming up fast behind me.

I ran all the way to the edge of the cliff. Loose gravel crumbled under my sneakers and rattled down into a bottomless black void. Behind me were the bloody jaws of the wolves. Several dark figures were already crouched low, ready to pounce.

I glanced back. The whole pack was behind me now, which meant Dad was safe. I hurled the branch in my hand hard at the wolves, then squeezed my eyes shut and jumped.

As I hurtled through the air, there was nothing in my ears but the roar of the wind. The last thought that flashed through my mind was that at least Dad was safe. If this jump was all it took for him to live, then it was worth it.

…

When I opened my eyes again, my body felt light as a feather.

I looked down and saw… another me, lying twisted among the rocks. One leg was bent at a grotesque angle, and my school uniform had been shredded by branches.

Blood soaked into the stream beneath me, turning the water before the current slowly washed it away.

Was I dead? Was this what the world looked like after one died?

Before I could even process the whole thing, a deafening roar exploded from the top of the cliff. Blinding white searchlights snapped on, turning the mountaintop bright as day.

I floated upward for a closer look and was dumbfounded.

A helicopter was slowly descending. Its spinning blades whipped the trees so hard they bent and shook. A group of people in camouflage uniforms rushed out.

The "vicious wolves" that had wanted to tear me apart just moments ago were suddenly having their heads pulled off.

Under the fake wolf heads were people in motion-capture suits, plus a few highly trained shepherd dogs that were now lying on the ground, wagging their tails like happy pets.

"Cut! Perfect!"

Dad stepped out from between the rocks, casually brushing dirt off his clothes and straightening his rumpled collar. There was no trace of his earlier madness and terror.

The director hurried over with a flattering smile, offering him a glass of champagne. "Mr. Locke, that performance was top-tier. The livestream just broke 300 million views! Everyone's calling this the family drama of the year!"

Dad took the champagne, raised it slightly toward the camera, and took an elegant sip. On his face was the expression I knew best—that calm smile that made it clear everything was under control.

"Emma's acting was way too real," he said with a chuckle. "I almost bought it myself. That final jump was especially full of emotion."

He turned toward the edge of the cliff and shouted, "Okay, Emma, you can stop hiding now! The props team has already packed up, and the holograms are off. Come on up. I had them get your favorite black forest cake ready!"

I hovered in midair, staring at that blinding smile on his face. All I felt was absurdity. Utter absurdity.

So, there were no loan sharks, no bankruptcy, and no threats. Even the wolves were fake.

The crew started taking apart the set, hauling all those so-called dangerous props back onto the helicopter.

Someone asked in a low voice, "Mr. Smith, why isn't Ms. Locke back yet? I just saw her jump off the cliff. Is she…"

Dad waved a hand, cutting him off with an easy, confident look. "Relax. There's a whole layer of safety nets and air cushions down there. I just saw the crew go down. Emma is definitely hiding down there waiting for me to go praise her. It's one of her little tricks to make me feel bad for her."

He turned back to the camera, to the countless viewers still watching the livestream, and said, "Kids these days are just too soft. If you don't give them a real lesson once in a while, they'll never grow up. See how we managed to force out her potential this time?"

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause. Everyone was celebrating the "survival challenge" ending in a perfect success; everyone but me, who was left drifting in the freezing wind.

I stared down at my lifeless body on the ground, no longer feeling anything.

…

The helicopter slowly rose into the air, carrying the jubilant people toward the luxury camp at the foot of the mountain.

Some invisible force tugged at me, pulling my weightless self to hover beside Dad.

He lounged in a leather seat. Next to him sat his girlfriend, Alice Ford, who was also the producer of this show. She was holding up an iPad for him, grinning so hard that all her teeth were on display.

"Terence, you're unbelievable! The whole internet's calling you a 'hardcore tough-love dad' right now. They're all saying you're tough on your kid because you care. Our company's stock price is already up five points in after-hours trading!"

Dad wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "Of course. Who do you think wrote the script? Viewers eat this 'rich kid thrown to the wolves' storyline up. Emma is usually such a timid little thing—there's no drama at all. If I don't push her to the brink, how's she ever gonna learn how cruel the real world is?"

Alice snuggled into his chest and said coyly, "Only you could go that far. I saw how white Emma's face went when she jumped earlier. I actually felt bad for her."

"What's there to feel bad about?" Dad took a sip of his drink, looking unbothered. "She's my daughter. If she's scared of a little staged danger, how's she going to take over my company someday? Besides, I had everything arranged.

"We stacked three layers of imported landing cushions at the bottom of the cliff. They're softer than her bed at home. There's no way she'd get hurt."

I floated above their heads, staring at Dad's self-righteous expression.

Just three days earlier, he'd suddenly burst into my school and dragged me straight out of class. He'd reeked of alcohol; his clothes had been torn, and there'd been bruises on his face.

"Emma, it's over. Everything's over! The company's bankrupt, and I'm in debt to loan sharks. They're going to kill me to collect!" he'd cried.

He'd bawled like a child and even dropped to his knees in front of me.

I'd been stunned. All my life, Dad had been the high-and-mighty CEO. I'd never seen him look so pathetic.

And so, I hadn't even thought twice. I'd shoved the 5,000 dollars I had saved into his hands. But all he'd done was grab me and shove me into a beat-up old van, driving us deep into the mountains.

For the next three days, we'd survived on wild fruit and dirty water. To make him have more of the moldy bread I had in my bag, I'd lied and said I wasn't hungry, then secretly picked at tree bark to fill my stomach.

Thorns had torn my hands open, and the soles of my feet had been covered in blisters. However, I hadn't made a sound.

Why? It was because Dad had said, "Emma, you're all I have left now."

I was all he had left.

I was a coward. I screamed when I saw cockroaches. However, to save him, I'd been willing to gamble with my life. And for what?

All of this was just for his company's stock price, his trending numbers, and to stroke his ego as some so-called "parenting expert". To him, those moments I'd spent hovering at the edge of death and struggling to survive were nothing more than "emotionally rich" footage.

In his eyes, I wasn't even a person.

…

The helicopter landed on the lawn of a mountain resort hotel.

The place blazed with light; the victory banquet was already set. The long table was piled high with lobster, steak, red wine, and the black forest cake that was supposedly my favorite.

I didn't actually like black forest cake. Strawberry mousse was my favorite. Mom used to make it for me all the time, back when she was alive.

After she died, Dad never bothered to remember what I liked ever again.