Free MILA 2.0: Redemption by Debra Driza Page A

it was swelling?
    This was Lucas. My friend. But being on the road with him was reminding me of my time with Hunter. Was my memory just playing tricks on me, because I was missing the boy I’d fallen so hard for such a short while ago?
    Trusting Lucas was easy. Trusting my own feelings? Not so much.
    “So, you ready for this?” he said, breaking the tension.
    I nodded and focused on my reflection in the mirror, steeling myself as I held the scissors up. My hair couldn’t grow back, so this cut was it. If I made a mistake and left a bald spot, I’d be living with that hint of scalp forever.
    Or as long as I survived, anyway.
    My fingers closed confidently around the scissors, and I started snipping, locks of hair drifting to the floor in puffy bunches. Lucas grabbed some paper towels and began cleaning up all the trimmings, and once it was all over my neck felt naked. I gazed in the mirror and checked out the results. Tiny wisps framed my face like ebony feathers. My eyes looked huge, my cheekbones defined. The overall effect was pretty waifish, I decided.
    Good. Let any foot soldiers that Holland had sent after me, or anyone else who was on my trail, think I was some delicate creature that needed protection. Soon they’d be surprised.
    Lucas cleared his throat. His cheeks took on a pink tint.“You look good,” he said finally. Then he checked his watch, his face getting serious. “Now on to phase two.”
    “Phase two?”
    He reached into his pocket and held up a small external drive. “Back at the cabin, I was able to construct some programming software that would manipulate your hardware and help you . . . adapt to your environment.”
    He paused, like he was unsure of how I’d react.
    “Adapt?” I prompted. “What do you mean?”
    “Well, the program on this drive can adjust your appearance settings, to whatever suits you,” he revealed.
    That took a second to sink in. “Appearance settings?” I repeated, thinking about how useful it would be to alter my physical features right now. “So you can change how I look? Beyond my hair, I mean?”
    “Not your weight or height or anything, but little modifications, yes,” he said, grinning. His hazel eyes went sparkly, and his hands all wavy, the way they did when some techy feat excited him. “We can alter your skin tone, your eye color. Change the shape and contours of your lips, or the shading on your face, which can help alter the look of bone structure.”
    “Is there anything you can’t do?”
    “Yes. Tie my shoelaces without using the bunny-ear method.”
    “So. You can still tie your shoes, you just have to cheat a little.”
    “I’m not a big fan of shortcuts.”
    I smiled, reaching out for the external drive. “How does it work?”
    “Plug it into the port in your finger and then run the app once it loads,” he instructed.
    I did as he said, and just as I hooked up to the drive, Lucas went to the door to listen for anyone who might be outside. He nodded when the coast was clear.
    Once the program loaded, I studied my reflection in the mirror, taking in one last look at my familiar features.
    Open Camo App.
    A string of code filled my head and I scrolled through it carefully.
    Eyes, lips, skin, contours. It was all there.
    “Eyes first,” I said aloud, so Lucas could follow along. He took a few steps until he stood behind me. Studying my reflection seriously.
    More code, prompting me to alter the color, along a spectrum.
    Without thinking, I chose brown first. Five seconds later, my eyes had darkened, going from the color of grass to a deep mahogany. I felt a sharp twinge in my rib cage. Subconsciously, I’d changed my eyes to the exact color of Sarah’s.
    And of my archrival/android twin, Three.
    My reflection was still clear before me, but another image joined it, released from some shadowy corner of my mind.
    “You’re my, my brown-eyed girl.”
    “Oh my gosh, Dad, seriously? Not again,” I shrieked, swatting at the imaginary