My phone buzzes just as Alexander and I head to his family’s estate. I glance at the screen. It’s Grace. **Grace:** _Where are you? Your room looks like a crime scene. Are you okay?_ I sigh, thumbs hovering over the keyboard before replying. **Lillian:** _I’m fine. I’ll explain later._ I shove my phone in my pocket as Alexander pulls the car into the long driveway of his family’s estate. The towering mansion looms ahead, its massive windows glinting in the early light. We don’t have much of a plan—just a desperate hope that his father’s office might have something, anything, that connects to Jasmine Carter or nothing for that matter. Inside, the house is eerily silent. We slip into his father’s study, searching through cabinets, drawers, and stacks of files. But there’s nothing. No secret records, no hidden documents—just endless business contracts and financial statements. After two hours, Alexander groans, tossing a folder onto the desk. “This is a waste of time. If my father is involved in something shady, he wouldn’t leave a paper trail just lying around.” He’s right. We leave empty-handed and exhausted, driving back to campus in silence. By the time we arrive, Grace is waiting outside my dorm, arms crossed, an expectant look on her face. “Alright, spill,” she says the second I get close enough to earshot. “What the hell is going on?” I look at Alexander, and he shrugs. After taking a deep breath, I share everything with her—about the missing sibling, the research, and the discovery regarding Jasmine. Her expression softens in understanding as she embraces me. “That’s… a lot,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry, Lillian. That’s so much to process.” We head inside my dorm room, which still looks like a war zone of scattered papers, open books, and my laptop blinking with search results. Grace glances around, stepping over a pile of printed documents before sitting on my bed. “So, what’s the next step?” she asks. “You two have obviously been digging deep. Any theories?” Alexander leans against my desk. “We were looking into different names that kept appearing in the records. Some seem like aliases, others like real connections. But nothing concrete yet.” “Yeah,” I add, rubbing my temples. “We’ve found traces of something bigger, but it’s like trying to put together a puzzle with half the pieces missing.” Grace nods thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s not just about names. Maybe it’s about locations? Events? Something they were all connected to?” Before I can respond, Alexander’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out, frowning at the message before his expression darkens. “I just got sent something weird.” He opens the file, and my printer suddenly whirs to life. A document starts printing, the text heavily redacted, large black bars covering most of the content. But one thing stands out at the top: **Patient Name: ==Seraphina== ==Everhart==** A thick silence fills the room. Grace’s breathing turns uneven. She stares at the document, her eyes scanning the heavily censored information, before finally exhaling shakily. “I think… I think it’s time I tell you both the truth,” she whispers. I watch her carefully as she straightens her shoulders, forcing herself to meet our eyes. “My name isn’t actually Grace. Well… my middle name is, but my first name is ==Seraphina==.” Silence crashes over us. She swallows hard. “And… I’m sick.”