At the case analysis meeting, after listening to Mom’s autopsy report, the expressions of every officer were exceptionally grave. My condition at death was too wretched; my face was severely destroyed, fingerprints and irises obliterated, making it impossible to confirm my identity through conventional means. Furthermore, the recycling station where the body was dumped was not the primary crime scene, which drastically increased the difficulty of solving the case. Dad directed the officers to search for suspicious electronic traces near the dump site. "Have forensics do another deep neural residue read to see if there are any new findings. Get the DNA samples to the Genetic Identification Center ASAP." After giving this instruction to Mom, he hurriedly left with the tactical squad. Their concern for this nameless corpse far exceeded their concern for me, their living, breathing daughter. Mom once stroked Tia’s expensive bionic skin and said that doctors are God’s assistants, and repairing life is such a sacred duty. I watched Tia nod obediently in agreement. Yet, the moment Mom turned around, Tia initiated an auto-clean protocol with a look of disgust, as if Mom’s hands carried bacteria. That time, I was so angry I shoved Tia. As a result, to punish me, Dad forcibly shut down the power to my prosthetic limbs, leaving me to crawl on the floor for a whole day. And now, separated by gloves, Mom was gently touching my exposed metal spine with a trace of pity, sighing softly, "To die so miserably... her family must be heartbroken." I bitterly simulated a smile. My family? If they learned of my death, they would probably only feel embarrassed. Perhaps only my brother Leo, working in the Mars colony, would feel a little sadness for me. Mom’s gloved hand glided over my back. There was a large patch of purple scarring there, caused by radiation—a mark left from when I was lost in the radiation zone all those years ago. The year I was brought back home, during my physical examination, Mom had stared at that scar in astonishment, yet her eyes held a hint of revulsion. "How did your back get like this? It's hideous. Don't scare Tia." Now, would she recognize me because of this scar? I watched her nervously, my consciousness seemingly trembling. However, in the next second, Mom simply averted her gaze indifferently. "This is an old injury, a typical mark of the slums in the radiation zone." Her assistant, Bot-7, suddenly emitted an alert tone. "Dr. Vance, there is a crumpled paper receipt in the deceased's stomach storage compartment!" Mom’s eyes widened in surprise. She took the paper receipt—a rare item in these times—and sighed. "It's been corroded by stomach acid; the writing is illegible. Send it to the Restoration Department later to see if we can extract any information." Suddenly, a communication ringtone rang out. It was Tia’s favorite electronic synth track. Mom quickly removed her gloves and answered the retinal call, her voice instantly becoming gentle and loving. "Baby, what's wrong? Mom is working." "Tomorrow?" Mom paused, then gritted her teeth. "Don't worry, Dad and Mom will definitely be there for your celebration banquet. Your brother is on Mars; he can't make it back." Tia’s cloyingly sweet voice drilled into my auditory receptors. "Love you, Mom! I really hope sister Nova can come to my party. If she were there, I’d be even happier." "It doesn't matter if she doesn't want to come. It's normal that she doesn't like me. After all, I've hogged your resources for so many years." Even though Tia and I had never been on good terms, from the first day I returned home, she had been secretly modifying my family permissions and framing me. But in front of our parents, she was always keen on playing the role of the loving sister. Based on past experience, I guessed Mom was about to start scolding me. Sure enough, Mom’s voice suddenly became shrill. "You are my pride. What does that defective product Nova count for? She steals rare parts from the house and spreads rumors about you on the net. She doesn't deserve to be my daughter at all." "Rest assured, even if I have to forcibly take over control of her prosthetics, I will make her go and applaud you like a puppet!" Tia let out a string of bell-like laughter. "Dad sent me a message today reminding me to pay attention to network security. Mom, if you have time, remind sister Nova too." "Just worry about yourself. As long as Nova doesn't die outside and embarrass me, I couldn't care less what the hell she's up to." When Mom mentioned me, her tone was always filled with disdain. Maybe it was because the daughter they found was a pile of scrap copper and rotten iron, failing to meet the standards of this high-tech elite family. Even after finding me, they refused to replace my cybernetics with high-grade ones, saying I wasn't worthy. In their hearts, their only daughter was Tia. When they worried about Tia’s data security, no one remembered that I was the biological daughter who had been lost out there, struggling in the gutter. I really wonder what their reaction will be when they find out how I died. After all, Tia is the culprit who caused my death, and they are the accomplices.