The chalk squeaked aggressively against the blackboard.
Ms. Adler was writing a complex, multi-variable calculus equation. It spanned the entire width of the board, a tangled mess of integrals and limits.
She slammed the chalk down, dusting her hands off. She turned to the class, her eyes immediately locking onto the back row.
"Since we have a new transfer student," Ms. Adler said, her voice loud and mocking, "let's see if the rust belt teaches anything beyond how to fix a tractor. Miss Chapman. Stand up and solve the equation on the board."
The class snickered. Brenda turned around in her seat, a nasty grin on her face.
Elia didn't stand up.
She was slouched in her chair, her phone hidden beneath the edge of the desk. Her thumbs were moving across the screen in a blur.
"Miss Chapman!" Ms. Adler barked, her face flushing red. "Are you deaf? Or are you just too stupid to even read the numbers?"
Elia's thumbs stopped.
She slowly lifted her head. She looked at the blackboard for exactly two seconds.
"Negative fourteen point five," Elia said. Her voice was flat, bored.
Ms. Adler froze. She blinked, looking down at her answer key on the podium.
The answer was -14.5.
The classroom went dead silent. Brenda's grin vanished.
"You... you guessed," Ms. Adler stammered, her face turning a mottled purple. "Show your work!"
"I don't need to show work for basic arithmetic," Elia replied. She dropped her gaze back to her lap.
Ms. Adler opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She furiously grabbed an eraser and started scrubbing the board.
Cody, sitting next to Elia, leaned over. He stared at her phone screen.
"How did you do that?" Cody whispered.
Elia felt his body heat leaning into her space. Her thumb swiped the screen.
Instantly, the complex string of green code vanished, replaced by a generic Spotify playlist.
"Do what?" Elia asked coldly.
Cody frowned, looking at the music app. He leaned back, confused but intrigued. He popped the tab on a cold can of soda and slid it across his desk toward her.
"I'm Cody," he said. "Where are you really from?"
Elia didn't look at the soda. "Move."
Cody choked on his own spit. He grabbed his soda back, his face burning. "Fine. Be a freak."
Under the desk, Elia switched the screen back. She wasn't playing games. Her breathing slowed to a deliberate rhythm. Bypassing the Wolf Group's private medical server was a completely different beast compared to their financial nodes. Her phone grew hot against her palm as she deployed a series of localized spoofing algorithms. A red countdown flashed on her screen-the elite security team's tripwire was closing in. Sweat beaded at her hairline. With a microsecond to spare, her thumb slammed the final bypass code, severing the reverse-trace right as the encrypted vault clicked open.
A massive, encrypted PDF downloaded to her phone.
Patient: Kane Wolf.
Elia opened the file. Her eyes scanned the dense medical terminology, the genetic sequencing charts, the blood toxicity levels.
Her chest tightened slightly.
It was a severe mutation of the hematopoietic stem cells. His body was literally attacking its own blood supply. The pain he experienced during an episode would be equivalent to having battery acid injected into his veins.
Modern medicine had no cure. The file noted that his life expectancy was less than six months.
Elia's thumb hovered over the screen.
She wasn't modern medicine. She was the secret disciple of a Nobel-level surgeon. She had spent the last three years developing a cellular regeneration technique that the medical world thought was science fiction.
She could fix him. A cold, calculated plan formed in her mind. If she pulled this off, the medical underground would realize that 'The Surgeon' had finally returned from the shadows. She would use his life as leverage. She would cure him, and in exchange, she would get her necklace back.
The bell screamed, signaling the end of the period.
Ms. Adler stormed out of the room without a word. The students scrambled to leave, actively avoiding Elia's desk.
Elia slipped her phone into her pocket. She grabbed her canvas bag and walked out into the crowded hallway.
The corridor was packed with students heading to the cafeteria.
Suddenly, the crowd parted.
Geri Chapman walked down the center of the hallway, flanked by four girls wearing identical designer skirts and sneers.
Geri spotted Elia coming out of the Class 10 doorway.
Geri stopped. She covered her mouth with her hand, letting out a loud, theatrical gasp.
"Oh my god," Geri said, projecting her voice so the entire hallway could hear. "Elia? You actually got put in the garbage class? I told Mom you wouldn't be able to handle a real curriculum."
The girls around Geri laughed loudly. Students in the hallway stopped to watch.
Geri stepped closer, her eyes glittering with malice. "Everyone, be nice to my adopted sister. She had a really hard time in the Midwest. She didn't have a lot of... rules."
Elia stopped walking. She looked at Geri.
Her fingers twitched, the muscle memory of holding a scalpel flaring up. She calculated exactly how much pressure it would take to dislocate Geri's jaw and stop the annoying sound coming from her mouth.
Instead, Elia just stared. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
Geri's smile faltered under the weight of those dead, icy eyes. She took a nervous step back.
Elia walked forward. She didn't alter her path. Her shoulder slammed hard into Geri's collarbone, shoving the girl out of the way.
Geri stumbled, crashing into the lockers with a loud bang.
"Watch it, psycho!" one of the mean girls screamed.
Elia didn't look back. She kept walking toward the cafeteria.
Behind her, Geri rubbed her bruised shoulder. Her face twisted into a mask of pure hatred. She pulled out her phone.
It was time to ruin her.
