The word anomaly echoed in Alliah’s mind long after Dr. Serrano had spoken it. It was clinical, detached, yet it carried the weight of dread. In her journal that night, she wrote it over and over, circling the letters until they blurred into a shadow. Anomaly. Something outside the pattern. Something that doesn’t belong. Something that could break everything.
Jamiro sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched as though the word had settled on him, too. He hadn’t spoken much since they left the hospital. His silence was heavy, not born of indifference but of fear he couldn’t voice.
Joshua, meanwhile, had grown colder. He slammed doors, skipped meals, retreated to his music, and kept his headphones on even when Alliah called his name. She wanted to reach him, to explain that she was
