ile silence of the lab. Professor Anya Sharma' s name flashed on the screen, and I smiled, picking it up. It was our ni

come to the lab tonight.

hat's wrong?

he line went dead. I called back immediately, again and again, but it went straight to voice mail. A cold dread washed over me, a feeling so strong

tic symphony of ringing phones and loud voices. I found Detective Miller at his desk, a tired-looki

e," I said, my voice shaking. "Someone was in

ug for Vance Pharmaceuticals, and the powerful CEO, Damien Vance, who had been pressuring her to rush the trials. Miller just nodded, his face a mask of prof

r and over in my head. She was more than a mentor to me, she was the one who saw my talent when everyone else saw a socially awkward girl who preferred

He said it was a robbery gone wrong, that she fought back. But I saw her body, the specific, brutal injuries that didn't match a simple mugging. I saw the sign

wasn't a robbery. It was Damien Vance. She was going to expose h

powerful men in this city. You can't just throw accusations like that around w

g up before me. The system that was supposed to deliver justice was protecting the very man who had destroyed my world. In that moment,

ew feeling began to grow, a cold, sharp determination. I would not let Anya's death be just another unsolved case file. I would sacrifice everything to find the