Dr. Mira Chen's POV
The blood hits the floor before I even feel the pain.
I stare at my palm, watching red drops fall onto the white tiles of my lab. The broken glass from my favorite coffee mug glitters around my feet like tiny stars. But that's not what makes my heart stop.
It's the sound.
Soft laughter. A woman's giggle, muffled and breathy, coming from inside my private office.
My office. The one I've practically lived in for five years. The one with all my research files, my presentation notes, everything I've worked for locked safely inside.
Except the door isn't locked. It's cracked open just enough for a sliver of light to spill into the dark hallway.
I should leave. Every instinct screams at me to turn around and walk away. But my feet move forward anyway, carrying me closer to that strip of light, closer to that terrible giggling sound.
"We did it, Marcus." That's Lydia's voice. My best friend since college. The person who brought me coffee during all-nighters and held my hair when I was sick and promised she'd always have my back. "All her files are copied. Tomorrow morning, this research is ours."
My hand freezes on the door.
"Not ours, baby. Mine." That's Marcus. My fiancé. The man who proposed to me six months ago with tears in his eyes, saying I was the smartest, most amazing woman he'd ever met. "You'll get your cut, obviously. But I'm the one presenting to the board tomorrow."
I push the door open.
They spring apart like guilty teenagers. Lydia's lipstick is smeared across her mouth. Marcus's shirt is unbuttoned. And between them, spread across my desk like a feast, are all my research files. My laptop is open, a USB drive blinking green as it copies my life's work.
For a second, nobody moves. We're frozen in this horrible moment, all three of us staring at each other.
Then Marcus smiles. Actually smiles.
"Mira. You're here early." He doesn't even sound embarrassed. He sounds annoyed, like I've interrupted something important.
"Early?" My voice comes out small and broken. I hate how weak I sound. "It's midnight. I came to do final checks before my presentation tomorrow—" I stop. Look at the files. At the USB drive. At their guilty-but-not-really-guilty faces. "My presentation."
"About that." Lydia slides off the desk, smoothing down her skirt. She won't meet my eyes. "Marcus and I have been talking. We think it's better if he presents the research instead. You know how you get nervous in front of crowds."
"Nervous?" I can't believe what I'm hearing. "I've given dozens of presentations! This research is mine! Five years of work—"
"Five years of work that went nowhere until I helped," Marcus interrupts. He buttons his shirt slowly, like we have all the time in the world. Like my entire life isn't crumbling around me. "Let's be honest, Mira. You're brilliant in the lab, but you lack vision. Business sense. I took your scattered data and turned it into something revolutionary. Something worth millions."
"You took my—" I can't finish. Can't breathe. "We're partners. We've always been partners."
"Were partners." He pulls the USB drive from my laptop and tucks it into his pocket. "Past tense. This is business, Mira. Nothing personal."
"Nothing personal?" I look at Lydia, desperate for her to say something, anything. "Lydia, please. Tell him this is crazy. We're best friends. You know how much this research means to me."
Lydia finally meets my eyes. What I see there is worse than guilt. It's pity mixed with something sharp and mean.
"Oh, Mira." She sighs like I'm a child who doesn't understand. "Did you really think Marcus loved you? Come on. He needed your brain, not your boring personality. You're so focused on your work, you never noticed he was dying of boredom. At least I know how to have fun."
The words hit like punches. Each one lands somewhere soft and vital.
"The engagement?" I whisper.
"A business arrangement," Marcus says. "Your research was worth the hassle of pretending to care. And it worked, didn't it? You trusted me with everything. Gave me access to all your files, your ideas, your funding proposals. You made this so easy, Mira. Almost too easy."
I grab the edge of my desk to keep from falling. "The board meeting tomorrow—"
"Will go perfectly." Marcus collects the remaining files, tucking them under his arm. "I've already spoken to security. There's footage of you 'breaking into' the lab tonight to steal research files. Jealous ex-girlfriend trying to sabotage her former partner's big moment. It's a sad story, really. Everyone will sympathize with me."
"That's insane! This is my lab! My research!"
"Prove it." His smile is cold and sharp. "Your name might be on some early reports, but I've been careful. The important work—the breakthroughs that matter—those all have my name attached. And with Lydia backing up my story..." He shrugs. "Who's going to believe the jealous ex?"
Lydia loops her arm through Marcus's. They look perfect together, like a couple from a magazine. Beautiful and successful and completely heartless.
"We should go," Lydia says sweetly. "Big day tomorrow. Oh, and Mira? You should probably leave before security comes. Breaking and entering is a serious crime."
They walk past me. Marcus even pats my shoulder as he goes, like he's comforting a colleague after a bad day at work.
The door clicks shut behind them.
I stand there in my office—my lab, my second home, the place where I've spent more time than anywhere else for five years—and I can't move. Can't think. Can't process what just happened.
Everything is gone. My research. My fiancé. My best friend. Five years of sleepless nights and missed birthdays and sacrificed relationships. All stolen in one night.
My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number: Security has been called. Suggest you leave now. -M
I run.
Out of the lab, through the building, into the parking lot. Rain hammers down, soaking through my clothes in seconds. I don't care. I run until my lungs burn, until I can't see through the water streaming down my face—rain or tears, I don't know anymore.
I end up on the old bridge overlooking the river. The storm rages around me, wind howling, thunder cracking the sky open. I grip the railing and scream. Just scream everything out—rage and betrayal and five years of my life turned into nothing.
Lightning flashes, so bright it burns white behind my eyelids.
The world tilts.
I'm not standing on the bridge anymore. I'm falling backward, the railing gone, nothing but empty air beneath me. The river rushes up to meet me, black and hungry.
But I never hit the water.
Instead, the sky tears open like paper.
And I fall through into impossible light.