Footsteps echoed across the ICU as the young woman’s body convulsed on the hospital bed, her eyes rolling back. Nurses moved swiftly, calling out crashing vitals as the heart monitor emitted a chaotic alarm.

Dr. Selena Hale strode in, her rectangular glasses glinting under the lights. “Step aside!” she commanded, grabbing a preloaded epinephrine syringe from the crash cart. With precision, she injected it into the patient’s thigh. “Anaphylaxis. No time to delay.”

The woman’s chest rose and fell violently, her breaths ragged before gradually stabilizing. Selena’s expression remained impassive, though a flicker of satisfaction touched her blue eyes. “As I suspected,” she muttered, turning to bark more orders. “Have another dose of epi ready. Start a saline bolus and monitor airway swelling—prepare for intubation if it worsens.”

Dr. Emily Weston stepped forward, her face pale as she absorbed the scene. “Anaphylaxis? But she’s been stable for nearly 36 hours—her allergy tests were negative.”

Selena shot Emily a sharp glance, yanking off her gloves with a snap. “She was stable because the allergen wasn’t in play until now. Something set it off—latex exposure? Cross-contamination in her food? Or maybe that shiny new antibiotic we started this morning. Run an IgE panel, and pull her full meds list. I need answers before we’re resuscitating her again.”

Emily hesitated briefly, then nodded, jotting down notes in a hurried scrawl. Selena turned back to the patient, her mind already dissecting possibilities. Whatever the trigger, she’d find it—and make sure the next reaction didn’t kill her.

Once the patient was stable, Selena strode into her office, grabbed a marker, and began scribbling on the large whiteboard mounted on the beige wall. Symptoms stood out in stark black: bloody tears, seizures, temperature sensitivity, vomiting. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the list, her mind sifting through differential diagnoses.

Whatever this was, she wasn’t letting it slip past her.

Selena's team assembled promptly, each member taking their place. Weston stood closest, poised to assist. Juliette Hooper, the infectious disease specialist, perched on the edge of a chair, eyes alert. James Chan, the neurologist, leaned casually against the wall, flipping through patient charts. Catherine Hudson, the pathologist, tapped her pen rhythmically against a notebook, while Luke Anderson, the radiologist, adjusted his laptop, ready to review the scans.

Selena turned to the group, tapping the marker against the board before circling ‘Allergies’ in red. “Let’s break this down,” she began. “Do allergies typically present with bloody tears, seizures, sensitivity to temperature, and vomiting?”

The room fell silent until Juliette spoke. “No, not usually. Allergies can lead to systemic reactions like anaphylaxis, which might cause vomiting or seizures in severe cases due to hypoxia or shock. But bloody tears? That’s an outlier.”

James added, “Seizures from allergies are rare and would only occur in extreme cases—like severe hypoxia, significant electrolyte imbalances, or central nervous system inflammation.”

Emily chimed in, “Seizures have various causes: infections like meningitis, HIV, or encephalitis; brain injury; high fever; abnormal blood sugar levels; medications; sleep disturbances; alcohol; or drug use.”

Selena’s gaze darted between them. “Brilliant deduction,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Clearly, we’re not dealing with your garden-variety allergic reaction. So, unless someone wants to suggest it’s caused by cosmic rays or alien spores, I suggest you dig deeper. We’re missing a piece of the puzzle, and I don’t intend to let this patient die while we play guessing games.”

Catherine chimed in, “Bloody tears—haemolacria—aren’t typical with allergies. They could point to trauma, a bleeding disorder, or something rarer, like a vascular malformation. Has the patient been tested for clotting issues?”

Luke glanced up from his laptop. “Initial imaging didn’t reveal significant abnormalities, but a repeat scan might catch subtle vascular changes or a mass that could explain the haemolacria and seizures.”

Selena nodded, absorbing their input. “Right, so allergies alone don’t explain this. We’re missing a unifying diagnosis. I need more theories, people—now.”

“Well, Kayla mentioned her mother died of cancer. Maybe we should explore that,” Emily suggested, though her uncertainty was visible. Selena felt a flicker of doubt, a bitter taste creeping into her thoughts—something wasn’t adding up, whether it was a half-truth or a full-blown fabrication.

“Kayla? Who’s Kayla?” Selena’s eyes narrowed.

“Our patient,” Hudson answered evenly.

“Right,” Selena drawled, her voice laced with sarcasm. “The illustrious lineage of Karla—”

“Kayla,” Luke Anderson murmured, barely audible.

Selena shot him a sharp look but continued undeterred. “The pedigree of Kayla is suddenly critical for identifying potential genetic factors. What type of cancer are we discussing here?”

Emily hesitated, her voice faltering. “She said she didn’t know.”

Selena let out a low scoff, muttering under her breath, “At least that part isn’t a lie.” She leaned back, arms crossed. “Are we sure she doesn’t know? Or is she just playing ignorant?”

“She was crying when she told me,” Emily said softly. “She described being at the hospital with her mother until the end.”

Selena’s patience frayed further. “She was there when her mother died, yet she doesn’t know the diagnosis? What was she doing the whole time? Staring at the ceiling? No prescriptions, no hospital records, no discharge summary? Nothing she might’ve seen or overheard?”

Emily frowned. “It’s possible she wasn’t privy to the details. Some families shield younger relatives from the full medical picture.”

“Or,” Selena cut in sharply, “she had a private nurse handling the hard parts while she distanced herself from the emotional strain.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “If we can’t rely on her for details, we’ll pull her mother’s records. Start simple—was it hereditary? Lung? Breast? Environmental exposure? We don’t have time to sit around guessing.”

“On it,” Catherine said, already jotting notes. The team exchanged glances, sensing the urgency in Selena’s tone. As always, time was slipping away.

The night had settled as Selena’s taxi pulled up to her apartment. Exhaustion clung to her like a second skin after the grueling shift, but the sight of her door ajar shot a surge of adrenaline through her veins.

“What the—” she muttered, stepping cautiously toward the entrance. She pushed the door open, her senses on high alert.

The moment she crossed the threshold, she froze. Emily stood in the center of the living room, her face revitalized, makeup carefully applied. Beside her, a man she recognized—but barely—was leaning casually against the wall.

Selena’s eyes flicked between Emily and the man, confusion clouding her thoughts.

“Selena,” Emily said, offering a smile that seemed oddly out of place.

Selena’s gaze narrowed, the last remnants of her exhaustion fading under a surge of suspicion.

“Selena, sorry if I let Marcus in,” Emily added, her voice light. “We’re just leaving now.”

“Where are you going? Moving out with him?” Selena asked, but a hint of something else lurking behind her words.

“No, I told you last night—I’m just going on a date with him,” Emily replied, her smile unwavering.

“How many boyfriends will it take before you finally settle?” Selena pressed, only to be interrupted when Emily pinched her shoulder lightly.

“Don’t worry, Miss Hale,” Marcus chimed in with a chuckle. “I love Emily, and I’d do anything for her.”

There was no trace of bitterness in the exchange. It was almost... too perfect, Selena thought with a flicker of disbelief.

“Goodbye for now. See you later,” Emily said, giving Selena a light tap on the shoulder as Marcus stepped outside to hail a cab.

“Got your keys?” Selena shot her a pointed look. “I’m not dragging myself out of bed in the middle of the night to let in a drunken lady. And for heaven’s sake, don’t leave the door hanging open when you come back.”

Emily flashed a quick smile before glancing at Marcus, who was still preoccupied with flagging down a ride. She leaned in closer to Selena, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Do you think he was lying when he said he loves me and would do anything for me?”

Selena rolled her eyes. “No hint of lies, but why would you care? You never listen when you’re around your boys anyway,” she said dryly.

Emily’s smile widened. “But this is the first time you’ve said they’re not lying about loving me, so I’m definitely listening.”

Selena gave her a once-over, eyebrows raised. “Why are you so cheerful? Are you drunk? And keep it down—you’ve got a shift tomorrow. Turn up hungover, and you’ll be hunting for another department to join.”

Emily chuckled, undeterred. “The other doctors on our team adore me.” She tossed a playful wave over her shoulder. “Anyway, bye, Miss Grumpy Pants.” With that, she sashayed towards Marcus, her blue dress swaying as she went.

Selena sighed and took a quick cleanup inside her bathroom. After it, she changed into her pajamas and went towards the living room. She opened her laptop and began opening up a folder titled Shadowed Wings. Taking her notebook with scribbles of the recent diagnostics she had, she continuously tapped on the notebook, lost in thought.

“How come this Writer’s block is still here! I have thousands of ideas inside my head and this crime fiction novel is still on the process of beginning,” she muttered.

Typing just whatever words she can think of, she just let herself squeeze its remaining power. “It's been ten years since the accident happened—the tragedy that brought Adela Garcia's whole life upside down,” she began. “Her father was a renowned detective and had solved several cases. Her mother was a doctor who did solve complicated cases, too. The both of them met because of a case that they solved together.”

Selena’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “The Garcia’s life was perfect—Adela, her parents, and her big sister Nia, living peacefully in their suburban home. Nothing could break them apart,” she typed, her eyes half-closed. “But of course, all happiness comes to an end. The case that brought their family together would be the same one to tear it apart.”

She paused, trying to push past the stifling weight of her sleepiness, but it was no use. Her head fell forward, her chin resting against the table, her breath evening out into a rhythmic sigh.

The soft hum of the laptop was the last thing she heard before sleep overtook her, the world slipping away like sand through her fingers.

Hours later, a sharp knock echoed through the apartment, followed by a screeching sound—like glass dragging across metal. The temperature in the room plummeted, the air growing thick with unease.

Her eyes shot open, pulse quickening, her mind snapping back to full awareness. The knocking persisted—urgent, insistent.

Selena’s breath hitched as she pushed herself up, her head spinning briefly before she rubbed her eyes. She felt the cold on her skin, her heart pounding faster now. The laptop had shut itself, the screen now dark.

Another knock, louder this time, and then... silence. Her pulse raced, the hairs on her neck standing on end. The chill in the air was impossible to ignore.

She pushed her chair back, her steps slow. “If this is another one of those salesmen...” she muttered.

She pressed her ear to the door, her breath shallow, listening for any sound from the other side. No voices. Nothing. Just the eerie silence that followed the knock.

A soft, almost imperceptible shiver ran down her spine. She exhaled sharply, then grabbed the doorknob, hesitating for only a moment.

Selena's eyes narrowed when the door clicked open, her annoyance momentarily eclipsed by the sudden return of Emily’s voice.

"See you tomorrow, sweetie!" Emily’s tone was light, almost teasing.

The car slowed down outside, and Selena didn’t even flinch. It was only then that she heard the familiar rattle of keys and the soft click as the door swung open. She blinked, startled.

"You’re still awake?" Emily’s voice came, laced with surprise.

“Are you serious?” Selena shot back, her voice an irritated growl. "You woke me up."

Emily tilted her head, clearly amused. "I just came home. The taxi just passed."

Selena raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, Emily’s voice softened, and she looked as though she was about to say something when Selena cut her off.

"Never mind. Let’s just sleep, okay?" Selena said abruptly, turning towards the door and locking it with a sharp twist of her wrist. "You’re not drunk, are you?"

Emily just chuckled.

Selena’s gaze sharpened, her tone becoming more clinical. "If you were, I’d perform a blood ethanol concentration test right now, but I’m not sure it’s worth the metabolic exertion."

Emily raised an eyebrow and gave a mock pout. "Go on. Take a sample. Puncture me for a blood test or check for alcohol metabolites in my urine." But Selena didn’t relent, maintaining that unreadable expression. Emily sighed, offering a small smile. "Alright, I just had a modest amount of ethanol—red wine, to be precise."

Selena crossed her arms, an impassive smirk pulling at her lips. "Anything else happened there? A night filled with candles and romantic stuff, I assume?"

Emily rolled her eyes with a playful smirk. "No dim lighting stuff. Just a normal date. And I can say it was—"

Selena didn’t let her finish. "But you two shared a kiss. Judging by the lipstick stain on your cheek."

Emily chuckled, brushing her cheek with the back of her hand. "It was just one kiss, Selena. No need to make a big deal out of it."

Selena’s expression remained stone-cold. "As long as it’s just one kiss and you’re not bringing back anything contagious, I suppose it’s fine."

"Sure, Mom," Emily teased, throwing a wink over her shoulder.

Selena rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Alright, let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll see the patient again and check her progress. Hopefully, it’ll be something more interesting than your ‘heartfelt’ date."

She turned, heading for her room, the click of her laptop closing echoing through the flat. "Good night!" she called over her shoulder, leaving Emily standing in the hallway with a smile.

But even as the door clicked shut behind her, Selena couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that lingered—like a shadow, heavy and unexplained. A lingering presence that didn’t belong.