She typed in The Newfangled Inc. hospital disappearance.
A handful of links appeared—some repetitive, some unconfirmed, and none of them credible. Some missing people had been found in the hospital or had worked there. That's strange, Evah thought. The press was always chasing stories, but this felt... off.
The hospital was renowned for its charitable programs for the poor, a recent initiative that had bolstered its public image. Yet, there was no mention of the disappearances or any formal investigation. As she scrolled through more links with no new information, a thought crept into her mind. Maybe I'm just overthinking all of this. She paused, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. This is ridiculous.For a moment, she let herself believe it. Perhaps there was no conspiracy, no hidden truth. Maybe it was just the exhaustion playing tricks on her.
But then, something lingered at her, a constant pull at her curiosity. She couldn't let it go.
On her way out of the building, she spotted the Director. He was holding a laptop, his eyes fixed ahead as he passed. Evah's heart skipped a beat. Her curiosity flared again, the irresistible urge to know the truth clawing at her. She couldn't ignore it.
Inside the elevator, she stood behind the Director, her mind racing with a plan—an almost flawless one. She knew the system well, and there was no way anyone would suspect the subtle move she was about to make. The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and as the crowd dispersed, Evah swiftly inserted a flash drive into the Director's laptop, pulling it out just as quickly. The movement was nearly imperceptible, undetectable.
The drive contained a virus—her virus—a project she had created months ago, originally designed for a different purpose. But now, it had a much more critical function. The virus would freeze the laptop, rendering it useless, making the system impossible to trace back to her. It was brilliant, really. The Director would never know someone had accessed his files until it was too late. The virus, once activated, would shut everything down—there would be no trace, no way to detect her interference. She was the only one who could break the encryption and restore the system, using her unique skills to Cypher the data when the time was right. No one else would be able to decode the virus or see the truth hidden in those files.
Her pulse quickened with the knowledge that she was walking a razor's edge. If she got caught, everything would be over.
The next day, the Tech Department came to her with the Director's laptop, asking for help.
"Is it okay if I fix it later?" Evah asked, pretending to be busy with her usual tasks.
The Tech head, clearly relieved, nodded. "Of course, thank you. I owe you one."
She smiled, knowing full well that this was just the beginning. She was going to find the truth. And when she did, nothing would be the same again.
Later that night, as she worked alone in the lab, her colleague's voice echoed in her mind. "Evah, are you staying in again?"
"Just preparing for the next proposal," she said with a forced smile.
She watched him leave, his footsteps fading as he went. The lab was hers now.
Evah's hands trembled as she activated the time-freezing program on the laptop, freezing all timestamps and halting any recorded activity. She knew it was a calculated risk—if anyone traced the tech later, they'd know someone had tampered with the system. But the danger of not knowing, of leaving the questions unanswered, was worse. She couldn't stop now.
With a sharp breath, she dove into the folders. The first one opened, and for a split second, her mind went blank.
How? How is this possible?
Her heart pounded as the contents of the folder filled the screen. Her thoughts slowed, frozen in shock. For a moment, she couldn't process it—couldn't grasp the magnitude of what she was seeing. The files blurred before her eyes as if her brain was refusing to absorb them.
She wanted to stop. Her body screamed to close the laptop, to walk away, to forget what she had seen. But deep down, she knew that turning back would be more dangerous than pushing forward. If she didn't know the truth now, it would haunt her forever.
It might kill me not knowing.
The hunger for answers gnawed at her insides. Her fingers clicked the mouse again, almost mechanically, moving from folder to folder, her mind racing faster than her hands could keep up. Each click, each folder opened, was like another layer of her innocence being peeled away. The truth—ugly and brutal—slithered out, revealing itself with every new file. Her chest felt heavy, as if something cold was slowly being shoved into it, a sharp, stabbing pain.
Another click.
The next folder opened, and Evah's stomach turned. Her vision blurred, and for a brief moment, she fought the bile rising in her throat. She slammed the laptop shut, desperate to block the image from her mind.