I sat in the hallway long after she fell asleep, staring at that bracelet as it caught the glow from the nightlight. I told myself I was imagining connections.
I didn’t want to be paranoid.
Three days later, at Oakwood Park, everything changed.
Ava was on the monkey bars when an older man sat beside me on the bench. He wore a heavy coat despite the warmth. A thick chemistry book rested on his knee.
“She’s got good grip strength,” he commented.
I smiled faintly.
Then his gaze shifted to her wrist.
“That bracelet,” he said slowly. “Where did she get it?”
Something in his tone made my stomach tighten.
“Why?”
He hesitated.
“I’m a retired industrial chemist. Certain metals… they stand out.”
He leaned forward, squinting.
And then his expression changed.
Color drained from his face.
“How long has she been wearing that?”
I swallowed.
“She’s been having unexplained nosebleeds.”
He didn’t blink.
“Take it off,” he said firmly.
“Immediately.”
PART 3: The Moment Everything Stopped
The second I unclasped it, I felt ridiculous.
And terrified.