The rain hammered against the windshield like a relentless drumbeat, the wipers struggling to keep up. Emma gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white. "Grace, can you please put your phone down? I can’t see the road with you glowing like a damn lighthouse."

Grace rolled her eyes, her fingers still dancing across the screen. "Relax, Em. You’re such a control freak. It’s just a text from Jake."

"Control freak? I’m trying to keep us alive!" Emma snapped, her voice rising. The headlights of an oncoming truck blinded her for a split second. She swerved, tires screeching against the wet asphalt.

"Emma!" Grace screamed, but it was too late. The car skidded, slamming into a guardrail with a deafening crunch. Emma’s head hit the steering wheel, and everything went black.

When Emma opened her eyes, the sterile white walls of the hospital room greeted her. Her face throbbed, and she reached up to touch the bandages. "What… what happened?"

A man in a white coat stepped into view, his calm demeanor almost unnerving. "You were in a car accident. I’m Dr. Noah Lee. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse."

Emma winced as he adjusted the bandages. "Grace… is she okay?"

"She’s fine, just a few bruises," Noah assured her, his voice smooth but distant. "But you… your injuries are more severe. I need to clean the wound on your face."

Emma nodded, biting her lip as he picked up a silver scalpel. The moment it touched her skin, she flinched, expecting searing pain. But instead, it felt… normal. Noah’s eyes flickered with something—curiosity? Surprise?—but he masked it quickly.

"That’s strange," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "Most patients react more… dramatically."

Emma frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," Noah said, his tone suddenly brisk. "Just a medical observation. You’re healing faster than I expected."

As he worked, Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that he was studying her, not just treating her. When he excused himself to fetch more supplies, she caught a glimpse of him slipping a vial of her blood into his pocket. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Dr. Lee," she called out, her voice trembling. "What are you doing with that?"

Noah paused, his back to her. "Just standard procedure, Ms. Emma. Nothing to worry about."

But the way he said it—cold, detached—made her stomach churn. As he left the room, Emma’s mind raced. Something was off. Something was very, very wrong.

The lecture hall was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the flickering projector at the front. Emma sat at her lab bench, her fingers drumming nervously on the polished surface.

She hadn’t been back to class since the accident, and the sterile smell of chemicals was making her stomach churn. Professor Carter, a wiry man with a perpetual air of detachment, stood at the front, his voice monotone as he explained the day’s experiment.

“Today, we’ll be observing the reaction of blood samples with a specialized solution,” Professor Carter said, his glasses reflecting the faint glow of the projector. “Everyone, take a lancet and prepare your sample.”

Emma hesitated, glancing at the lancet in her hand. “Is this… safe?” she asked, her voice low but tinged with unease.

Professor Carter’s eyes flicked to her, a brief pause before he replied, “Perfectly routine. Unless you’ve got something to hide, Miss Harper.” His tone was dry, almost sarcastic, but there was something in his gaze that made Emma’s skin crawl.

She pricked her finger, squeezing a drop of blood into the vial of clear liquid. Around her, the other students did the same, their samples turning a dull brown as the blood mixed with the solution. But when Emma’s blood hit the liquid, it shimmered, a faint silver glow spreading through the vial like a ripple on water.

“What the—” Emma muttered, her eyes widening. She looked up at Professor Carter, who was already standing behind her, his expression unreadable.

“Professor, is this… normal?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Professor Carter adjusted his glasses, his face a mask of calm. “Individual differences,” he said dismissively. “Nothing to worry about.”

But Emma didn’t miss the way his hand twitched as he scribbled something in his notebook, nor the way his eyes lingered on the vial a moment too long. Across the room, a few students glanced over, curious but not overly concerned.

“What’s up with your blood, Emma?” Jake, the class clown, called out with a grin. “You part alien or something?”

Emma forced a laugh, but her mind was racing. “Must’ve been something I ate,” she quipped, though her heart was pounding.

As the class continued, Professor Carter’s occasional glances in her direction didn’t go unnoticed. He was calculating, his mind already piecing together the implications of what he’d seen. Emma, meanwhile, couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

When the bell rang, she packed up quickly, eager to leave. But as she stepped into the hallway, her phone buzzed with an anonymous text: “Some doors shouldn’t be opened, Emma. Be careful who you trust.”

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. The hallway suddenly felt too long, too quiet. And somewhere, deep in the shadows, a pair of eyes watched her every move.

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead as Grace leaned against the lab table, her arms crossed. "You’ve been quiet all day," she said, her voice cutting through the sterile air. "Is it the accident? You know, you don’t have to pretend you’re fine with me."

Emma didn’t look up, her fingers tracing the edge of the table. "It’s not the accident," she replied, her tone distant. "It’s the experiment. Something was off."

Grace raised an eyebrow, her concern shifting to curiosity. "Off? Like, the machine malfunctioned? You know Dr. Harris’s equipment is ancient. It probably just glitched."

Emma finally met Grace’s gaze, her eyes sharp. "No, it wasn’t the machine. It was me. My vitals spiked in a way that shouldn’t be possible. I felt... something. Like a surge, but not physical. It was in my head."

Grace frowned, her playful demeanor fading. "Okay, that’s... weird. But you’ve been through a lot. Maybe it’s just stress messing with you. You’re not exactly the poster child for ‘normal’ right now."

Emma’s lips tightened. "It’s not stress. I know what that feels like. This was different. It was like... like I was connected to something. Or someone."

Grace hesitated, then reached out, placing a hand on Emma’s arm. "Look, I get it. You’re freaked out. But jumping to conclusions isn’t going to help. Let’s just... figure it out, okay? Together."

Emma nodded slowly, but her mind was already racing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the experiment had revealed more than just a glitch. Something about her had changed, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what it was.

The lab door creaked open, and Dr. Harris stepped in, his lab coat billowing slightly. "Ladies, still here? I thought I locked up."

Grace flashed a quick smile. "Just chatting, Doc. We’ll get out of your hair."

As they headed for the door, Emma glanced back at the machine, its screen now dark. A faint reflection of her face stared back, and for a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in her eyes. She blinked, and it was gone.

Outside, the campus was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon. Grace nudged Emma with her elbow. "You’re overthinking this. Let’s grab coffee. My treat."

Emma forced a smile, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The experiment had triggered something, and she wasn’t sure if she could ignore it. As they walked, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of something vast and unknown—and that stepping over might change everything.