6

Coming out of the hospital, I held my phone tightly, waiting for a call. I didn't know if it was my sister, Serena, or Quincy who did it, but since this person went to so much trouble to implant such a thing into my brain, he must want something from me.

I sat on a park bench, watching the people passing by suspiciously. I wondered if this person, who could monitor my thoughts at all times, had already arrived in Phuket.

The phone finally rang, and it was my sister. My company was going bankrupt, but my sister's voice was full of pride, "Ethan, how does it feel to have a splitting headache?"