Jennifer crept closer. From behind the door came muffled voices—urgent, hurried.
“Ah, finally. We got away with it.”
“We need to make sure nobody notices.”
The words struck Jennifer like a physical blow. Her breath caught, the meaning reverberating through her mind. What had they gotten away with? What needed to stay hidden?
Pressing her ear to the door, she strained for more, but the voices dropped to an indecipherable murmur. Desperation clawed at her. With trembling fingers, she slipped out her phone and hit record.
This was no misunderstanding. Something was being concealed, and she was the only one chasing the truth.
Her mind spun in frantic circles. Had they overmedicated her? Taken more than her appendix? Implanted something? Paranoia slithered back into her thoughts, darker than before.
Days blurred together. Jennifer replayed the recordings endlessly, each whisper carving deeper into her obsession. She knew one file would never be enough. She needed proof—irrefutable proof. And one sleepless night, she began to form a plan.