Ezra faced the closed doors to the lecture theatre with dread. Shit, she was late. Again. She glanced at her watch. 9:15 AM. Fifteen minutes late.

Should I go in? Should I not?

She chewed her bottom lip. She hated going in even five minutes late. All those beady eyes watching her as she entered, apologised, then made the walk of shame, climbing the nearest stairs in the nearest aisle, all the way to the empty seats at the back of the theatre. Feeling not only the students' eyes following her silently on her march, but the professor's as well.

Stupid people who couldn't get out of the way! Ezra's eyes burned with tears. Today was a lecture she'd been looking forward to. Last time, Professor Archer had teased that this was a lecture 'not to be missed', especially for those who wanted an opportunity of a lifetime to learn from the best in the field. Him. She didn't know what it meant, but she wanted a chance to know what that opportunity was, at least. Her family needed it—good things—any good thing.

The only time she'd ever directly interacted with the Professor despite volunteering at his labs were the days he came in and asked them to debrief him on the cultures they grew and tracking their health. This was her chance to impress him, to stand out. She was the best in their batch—best among all those sitting there in the theater, rapt in one of his thrilling talks. It wasn't her who said it. It was her near-perfect scores every time.

What do I do?

All weekend, she had been reminding herself not to miss this one lecture. I need to be in there. Yet, she stood, staring at the closed door with an uncomfortable feeling twisting her insides. If it weren't for people walking like sloths in front of her, blocking her quick descent down the platform stairs and a dash to the tram outside the station, she would have made it.

Just head in, Ezzie! Her dad's voice softly encouraged in the back of her mind. You've seen people enter the theater half an hour late, and the world didn't end. You can do this. Just close your eyes and walk in. Maybe you haven't missed it, whatever he was about to say.

You've got this, darling girl. From nowhere, Mamma's voice cooed as well, and Ezra felt her heart flutter in want.

"I can do this!" She balled her fists and nodded, her heart hitching to her throat with dread. She reached for the handle, counting down from ten. At one, she'd pull it and enter. "Ten," she began whispering. This was the only way she could get herself over her anxiety and do something that made her nauseous. Lucky thing she had had little to eat.

"Excuse me!" A student barreled down the hallway, pushing Ezra out of the way and bursting into the theater. "Sorry! Sorry!" she could hear his faint voice through the door. "Bus was late."

See! Dad's voice cajoled. Right on his heels, as if you got off the same bus.

Ezra breathed out slowly and reached for the door despite wanting to throw up. She pulled it open and stepped in.

When the Professor and the entire theater stopped to look at her, she froze, the heavy door hitting her backpack and pushing her forward.

The word 'sorry' choked her, and she felt her cheeks flush. All she managed as she met Professor's quizzical gaze was to breathe out the word, "Bus," as if it explained her disruptive arrival.

Professor Archer's brows furrowed ever-so-briefly before he turned back to the theatre and continued with his lecture on cell mechanics, pointing at what looked like an image of the Ebola Virus on the projector screen with his laser pointer. "As I was saying..."

Ezra took his continuation as a dismissal and quickly scurried to the back of the theatre, hoping the distance would help her gain her composure. She quietly slipped out a notebook from her bag and a pen, ready to scribble notes while the theatre-full typed away on fancy PCs or recorded the lecture using various other devices.

Ezra missed her laptop, too. But paying off some of Shaki's school fees without worrying Dad was more important. Besides, she recalled more information when she wrote her notes than when she typed. It was one good thing she appreciated about herself. Somehow, she could just listen and absorb all knowledge parsed out as if she were a sponge. Where people forgot details, her brain remembered all, recalling them in the right order and right sense. But it still helped to take notes. She hadn't needed to buy expensive textbooks or ebooks throughout her university years. A visit or two to the uni library gave her enough time to absorb everything she needed.

"For this semester, in DesignerMicrobes201, you will work in teams in your labs to study the targetted mutations on bacterial or viral species of your choice. If you can achieve the evolutionary advantage you desired from your microbe, you will have passed your practical component..." towards the end of the lecture, Professor Archer segued into an overview of the topic ahead of them.

Ezra itched with excitement. Finally, they'd get to play with the critters they'd been studying inside and out for the past year or two. Finally, she could try to use them in some ways to solve world hunger. Maybe one day I'll be famous! She smiled. And my family won't be starving...

"Now," Professor Archer's voice took a jolly tone. "Moving onto that opportunity I mentioned in my last lecture..."

This is it. Ezra sat up straight, her pen poised and ready to write verbatim.

"There is an opening at my lab, GenDesign, for a fourth-year student who will assist the research team, both in and outside the lab."

Confused murmurs erupted in the theater.

The Professor's hands went up, asking for silence.

Ezra moved forward in her seat. This is it, her mind kept saying. Whatever he was about to say felt significant. It could change someone's life. It can change mine... ours... A chance to actually work for the scientist she admired and wanted to be like would be a dream.

When the murmur took a while to die, she shifted uneasily in the seat. Shut up and let him talk. She chewed her bottom lip, trying not to get ahead of herself.

"I'm more than aware you are third-year!" The professor projected his voice over the murmur, which immediately died, eager to hear what he had to say.

Ezra eyed the ticking digital clock over the theatre entrance. Five minutes left until he said goodbye. Five minutes left until whatever this opportunity was closed on them. She couldn't breathe, or rather wouldn't breathe, afraid it would break the silence in the hall.

"But some of you are brilliant students." His gaze fleeted over to her briefly that she wasn't sure if it had actually transpired or if she'd imagined it—"perhaps better than many fourth-years already doing their honours research. Therefore, I'm open to third-year applicants if you think you have what it takes to come work for me."

Ezra almost bounced on her seat and refrained from raising her hand like a child and going, "Oh, oh, me!" Which would have been embarrassing.

A brave student raised a hand in the third row. Professor nodded at him to go ahead. "Does the application process require anything from us?"

Professor's face split into a wide smile. "For those of you wanting to apply, my office is receiving applications until the end of the week. Other than your resume, you are required to write an essay—on a hypothetical scenario, I'm about to give you. It's hypothetical, mind you, but I'd like to see your argument for it as if it was happening. Convince me you can passionately argue for what others might consider an ethical dilemma or an issue—because, chances are, in your careers, there may come a time when you have to take your research in a direction others might question and I'd like to see if you have what it takes to stand your ground."

Another hand went up in the crowd. "And what hypothetical scenario is it, Professor Archer?"

"It's an ongoing world issue... the root of all our issues..." For a moment, the Professor stood there, leaning against his podium, staring at them, scanning their faces.

Ezra's brows knitted together, trying to figure out what world-issue the professor might refer to. When her stomach twisted in hunger, she thought, food, it has to be the food shortage around the world... or medicine... shelter? As microbiologists or future epidemiologists, we can't possibly solve that one though...

"Humans." Professor's one word hung in the air, heavy.

"Humans?" someone asked.

Archer nodded. "Think about it. Our issues of food, medicine, resources, and shelter shortages all stem from us—our population—growing bigger than sustainable."

Further murmurs of chatter erupted in pockets around the theatre.

"By 5 PM Friday, if you're interested in working for me and learning from me and my team, submit your resume and your four thousand word essay on the merits of curbing or controlling the current and continual rise of the undeclared pests on planet earth. Humans."

"But that's just... sick..." someone argued up the front as the Professor began packing his PC.

"Yes. And as I prefaced, it's a hypothetical scenario: what if one day, we had to control our own numbers? How would you justify doing it? Because there may come a day, son, that that is our only last resort." Archer stared at the asker. His expression was indecipherable.

All around Ezra, students whispered with one another as they packed.

"5 pm. Friday. My office. If you can convince me of this, I know you can convince the world of anything. And I need that young blood by my side as we try to curb world hunger and diseases." At exactly 10 am, the Professor bid them goodbye as usual. "Stay curious and get thinking!"

When he exited the theater, the murmur exploded, drowning out her thoughts. Ezra packed her bag and snaked past the still-debating students.

"Shit, man. Imagine if that actually happened."

"I got goosebumps just thinking about it..."

Further ahead, yet another said seriously, "But, in all honesty, is he wrong though? All our problems, food, resources, shelter, all come from too many of us and not enough of everything else..."

Ezra's mind reeled as she rushed out the door. She would love an opportunity to work in GenDesign. It was a well-renowned research lab. They'd created many solutions to world diseases and vaccines. They were at the forefront of researching the use of microbes to create a food source that could be mass-produced... but this assignment, this essay?

I don't stand a chance. Dizziness set in and she sat on the nearest bench in the med lawn. But the only way to have a shot at the job was to write this thing he wanted.

It's just an essay. But the more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. Curbing human population? Why would the professor even set such a scenario?

#

"What?" Shaki glared from her bed, already tucked in for the night.

"What?" Ezra mumbled, worrying her lower lip with her hand.

"You've been staring at things all night. At dinner, it was the food. When Dad was talking, you were staring at his shoulder, and now, you've been trying to put a hole in the ceiling since we said goodnight."

Ezra shook her head.

Shaki grunted and threw her cover off, swung her leg off the side of her bed, and leaned over Ezra, easily bridging the thirty centimeters gap between their beds. "What?"

"What?" Ezra met her gaze. "Go to sleep."

"You're worried about something, and when you worry, sis, you breathe loud, like a dragon."

"Dragons aren't real."

You sure? Shaki gave her such a look, and Ezra burst out laughing.

Her little sister pouted, adopting her signature folded-arms looks. "Talk."

"Fine." Ezra sat up, leaning back against the wall so Shaki couldn't read her face in the dark. "There's this job opportunity at the lab I volunteer at, a paid assistant job I think I'm suited for..."

"But?"

Ezra chewed her lip habitually. "We have to write this essay supporting a questionable, hypothetical scenario to apply."

"And?"

"And I don't think I can do it, Shay."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because is not an argument." Shaki groaned like a disapproving adult.

"You'd struggle to write it too if you knew the scenario." Ezra mimicked her sister and crossed her arms.

"All I've heard from you since you volunteered at GenDesign is that you'd kill for an opportunity to work there for reals." Shaki scoffed, her back against the wall on her side. "Do you want this job or not?"

"Of course I do!" Ezra moaned in annoyance. "I even went on their site today to read up on it. It's not a help-us-rent-a-villa-in-the-north kind of paycheck, but it's a start. It will help Dad with the bills and it includes a small food ration allowance."

"So, what's this scenario? The one that's got your knickers in a twist."

Ezra could see a faint smile tug at Shaki's lips, proud she'd been able to use the unusual saying from this morning properly.

Shaki waited patiently while Ezra fought her inner tug of war. To tell or not to tell. Eventually, she decided on the latter. At least, this way she could get a second opinion.

"And it's just a hypothetical scenario?" Shaki questioned afterward.

"He was very clear on that."

"Then I don't see a problem. Write the damn essay and get this job. I doubt anyone applying is as bright as you." Shaki moved to get under the blanket again.

Ezra hummed, still questioning herself. Did she even want to write this piece: benefits of curbing the human population? Just the thought alone was making her queasy.

"Or flip a coin and let it decide for you as we used to when we were younger," Shaki suggested, almost as a dare, sliding under her sheets, yawning. "One coin, two choices. And that life-changing opportunity."

"Heads I apply?" Ezra whispered in the dark.

"Tails you don't." Shaki turned to face the wall, pulling her sheets over her head. "G'night."

"Goodnight." Ezra stared at the back of her sister's head. Flip a coin. She could do it. She should do it. That way, the decision wasn't hers. Not really.

She slid off the bed and snuck downstairs as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake Dad up.

But as she landed on the bottom floor, she got the fright of her life. "Dad?!"

He sat on the kitchen counter, hunched over his laptop, nursing a glass of liquor—a rare sight. He'd given up drinking the day he landed in the hospital years ago, haemorrhaging a river of blood from a dismembered leg, just above the knee.

"What are you doing up? I thought you went to bed..." She approached him cautiously, for there was a haunted look in his tired eyes. She couldn't help but glance at the screen, noting it was open on a job seeker site for techies. "What's going on?"

"Ezzie, what are you doing up?" Her dad tilted the screen so she could no longer see it. He rubbed his tired face and got off the stool. "You hungry? I can whip up something small for you..."

"I'm not hungry, Dad." Ezra shook her head.

"Then what is it?" He stepped closer to her and felt her forehead with the back of his hand, asking, "You're not sick, are you?" There was a hint of terror in his voice as he asked this, and Ezra felt guilty.

"No, Dad, I'm fine." She gently took his hand in hers. "I'm fine."

"Good." He walked back to his stool, though he did not sit. "What did you need, honey?"

"Umm..." Ezra eyed the laptop, a sickly feeling in her chest. Dad's hiding something. "Do you still have those coins? The ones Mum used to collect?"

At the mention of Mum, she caught her dad studying her again, no doubt worried that just like his beloved Lara, his daughter was hiding an illness.

"You are okay?" he asked, reaching for his drink.

"I'm fine, Daddy." Ezra tried to reassure him with a smile, even though the job search sight still teased her mind. "I have a dilemma and I can't decide what to do so—"

"You thought you'd flip a coin"—he chuckled—"like your mum used to?"

Ezra nodded.

"Ah, in that case"—he moved towards a cupboard, reached into its highest shelf, and brought out an old round tin. He passed it to her. "There should be some in there."

Ezra hugged the tin but didn't move.

"What's your dilemma? Maybe I can help?"

"It's just something silly." Ezra shook her head. "Dad?" She eyed his laptop again, unable to return to her room without asking the one question digging at her. "Is everything okay with you?"

"Everything is fine!" His voice hitched higher than normal, and he stared at the floor, twirling his drink in hand.

"If there's something, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Of course, sweetie. But there's nothing you need to worry about." He threw back his drink, placed the glass on the counter, and grabbed his laptop. "We better head to bed. It's late."

As he walked past her, Ezra couldn't help herself. She grabbed his arm gently, holding him back or preventing his escape, she wasn't sure. "Daddy, please. I saw your screen. Either tell me what's going on or you know I won't sleep, worrying about you."

"You shouldn't worry about me—"

"Daddy!" her voice was sterner than she meant it to be. "Please. You're keeping something from us. I won't tell Shaki, but at least, tell me. I'm old enough."

"I know you are." He caressed her face, placing a kiss on her head.

"Then lean on me too, Daddy. Let me help."

He sighed and hung his head as if in shame. "We may have to downsize if I can't find another job. I've failed you both. I've failed Lara."

"What are you talking about? What happened to your job?" Ezra blinked in the dark. When did this happen? Today? Did he get let go today? Her chest tightened.

When his gaze lifted to hers, Ezra could read him as well as all the textbooks in the microfilm section of the library. "How long?"

Her father's shoulders slumped. "A month."

"A month?" Ezra tried to control her voice, to keep it low. "But... but you've been going to work every day?"

"They let me go 'cause I'm slow... and I took too many days off since—to look after you." Teary gaze danced before her. "I go job hunting..." his voice trialled. "I'm sorry. I never meant to burden you with this. Please, don't tell Shaki"—he grabbed her arm, begging. "I'll find another job soon..."

"Daddy?" Ezra took him in her arm and hugged him tight. "I'm so sorry. All of this, it sucks, but we can get through it. We can. You'll see." She wasn't sure whether she was trying to convince him or herself.

By the time Ezra headed up for bed an hour later, she no longer needed a coin from the tin she held in her arms to help her decide. The moment she walked away from Dad, she'd decided. I'm applying for it. I need this job... we need this job...

A/N: Ezra's had to make some hard decisions, but now that we're here, what do you make of this situation? 😄
Question: how is the family relationship/dynamic coming across?
Anything you like/dislike about the story/plot so far?
Got any theories and thoughts you want to share about her situation? Her family?
Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ❤️🙏🏼 TY for reading/voting/commenting.