I found out it was just an accident—nothing to do with Mom and Dad at all.

Unable to untangle the mess in my head, I threw myself into my studies.

The school had a rule: invent a top-tier national patent within three years, and you graduate. Simple as that.

The thought of finally getting away from Harrison kept me locked in the lab day and night.

Just when my experiment showed the first signs of success, my dad stepped in. Using research group funds, he set up a "special research team" for me—to help share the pressure, he said.

I knew better than to resist.

I knew exactly what he was doing. Harrison was going to ride my coattails.

The thing was, I was working on an optoelectronics project. Harrison didn't have hands. No matter how nimble his feet were, he couldn't run experiments.

But he refused to be useless. So he volunteered to record experimental data.

Plenty of nights, when a data point wouldn't come through, he stayed up with me.

Mom and Dad felt sorry for him. They'd show up with freshly stewed soup.

"Marcus, I owe you an apology." Harrison's voice was sincere as he set down the milky-white pig trotter soup Mom had made. "What happened during enrollment—that was my fault. I shouldn't have shifted all the pressure onto you. These past few days, working alongside you... I've learned a lot. You don't know how much Professor Thornton and his wife miss you. They stew your favorite soup every day and send it with me. They just want you to eat more."

The pungent smell of pepper hit me, and I froze.

I'd been allergic to pepper my whole life. One accidental bite and I'd have an asthma attack.

I looked at my mom's expectant eyes. Then I took the bowl and drained it in one gulp.

Relief washed over both their faces.

I knew right then—they were already plotting what else they could take from me.

"Marcus, Mom knows how hard you work. And you and Harrison have cleared up your misunderstanding." She reached for my arm. "Why don't you move back home? Dad and I can take care of you properly. Look how thin you've gotten. It breaks my heart."

The way she wiped her tears made me hesitate—just for an instant.

Then her next words dropped me into an ice cellar.

"You're about to graduate. You've got a patent, so Dad and I aren't worried about you. But Harrison—" Her voice cracked. "He lost his hands. And he's been by your side through all these experiments. His graduation thesis..."

She didn't need to finish. I knew exactly what she wanted.

"I'll help him write it," I said. "After all, he helped me too."

My mom smiled—that warm, knowing smile.

During the day, I ran experiments. At night, I wrote Harrison's thesis.

To graduate. To escape the parents who couldn't tell right from wrong. To get away from Harrison, who kept draining me dry.

I worked around the clock.

When I finally submitted the patent application and saw the words "preliminary review approved"—when Harrison's thesis passed after five revisions—I exhaled for the first time in years.

Three years of slaving away in the shadows for him. Finally coming to an end.

On the day of my defense, I submitted my resume to a company near Capital University.

One successful defense, and I could leave these three years of darkness behind.

The moment I sat down in the venue, my classmates were already whispering.

"I heard someone in our group invented a national patent. They're getting offered a faculty position."

"That's insane. No wonder Professor Thornton personally mentored them."

I blinked. Faculty position?

Harrison walked in late, wearing a crisp pressed suit, flanked by Mom and Dad.

When the last defense ended and the extended-graduation list was announced—

For the first time in my life, I opposed my parents in front of everyone.

"So what if you have to extend?" Dad's voice was ice. "Your mother and I are your advisors. You think we won't let you graduate eventually?"

After personally ruining my future, there wasn't a trace of regret on my dad's face.

"This isn't fair. I worked hard on that patent. Why does it become his just because you say so?"

"It's written right here in black and white. The holder is Marcus Thornton."

I pointed at the patent certificate and challenged him.

The academic affairs secretary knocked and came in. "Director Thornton, about Harrison Mason staying on at the school—the patent invention certificate section still needs to be filled in."

I cut her off. "He can't fill in that section. That patent isn't his."

She turned the iPad toward me. Three words filled the screen: Harrison Mason.

"Impossible. This is a fake website."

I snatched the iPad from her hands and kept refreshing, unwilling to give up.

What the hell—the patent I personally submitted now listed Harrison Mason as the holder.

My dad shoved me aside and returned the iPad to the secretary.

After seeing her out, he turned to me.

"You saw it yourself. The patent holder is Harrison. You don't have research results. You don't meet the graduation requirements. Delaying graduation is what you deserve."

"Stop dragging this out. Harrison's appointment ceremony is about to start. Stay put and behave yourself."

After that threat, my parents ran off to the school auditorium with smiles on their faces.

I replayed every detail—preparing the materials, uploading them. I did everything. He only helped me record a few data points.

Still unwilling to give up, I refreshed the webpage again. All the public patent research results were submitted by me.

So where exactly did things go wrong?

I gripped my hair, and an image flashed through my mind.

After carefully checking the computer, I found it—someone had planted a virus.

Everything I did on this machine, they could see.

With a bang, I smashed the computer into pieces. The one my parents personally gave me as an entrance gift.

For Harrison, they really would stop at nothing.

Besides monitoring my computer, they'd even made a fake confirmation link. So I'd be sure my patent had no problems. So I wouldn't have time to fix it, and could only delay graduation while they manipulated me.

I walked out of the office, dazed and hollow.

Discussion drifted over from nearby.

"That's him—the only one delaying graduation this year. I heard he's Director Thornton's son."

"Someone with no arms still developed a patent and got to stay at the school, and this guy can't even write a thesis."

"Pathetic. With resources like Director Thornton and his wife, and he still can't graduate."

All those voices that once questioned how Harrison got admitted as some kind of free add-on—they came back and hit me all at once.

No. I refuse to accept this.

I went back to the lab, planning to grab all the experimental data and file an appeal.

Beep beep beep—the access control let out a piercing alarm.

"Marcus, Mr. Mason said without his permission, you can't enter this lab."

A younger student passing by gave me a sympathetic look. "Mr. Mason heard you're delaying graduation and felt bad. He left you a workstation."

In an abandoned room next to the lab, I found my old experiment computer.

Everything on it had been wiped clean.

Harrison might not understand how, but my mom teaches computer science. She could definitely do it.

The evidence I'd been counting on to clear my name—gone.

Heart like dead ashes, I slumped to the floor.

Outside the door, I heard my parents and Harrison returning to the lab to celebrate.

Fine. If he wants this patent so badly, he can have it.

Without this patent, without that diploma.

I can still live normally.