Chapter 1 - The Weight of Wet Stone
The cold metal of the dissection table bit into Leo’s skin, but the physical chill was nothing compared to the dead weight hardening around his wrists. Maya stood over him, her dark blue t-shirt smudged with white dust, her blonde hair pulled back in a frantic, loose ponytail. The orange plastic bucket wobbled in her grip, a few stubborn crumbs of fast-setting plaster sliding down its side to ping against the stainless steel. Leo tried to yank his arms free, but his hands were sealed inside heavy, greyish-white cuffs that were rapidly turning hot as the chemical reaction cooked the mix.
"Are you insane, Maya?" Leo shouted, his voice cracking with sudden panic as he jerked his shoulders upward. "This isn't a joke anymore! My hands are burning!"
"Stop thrashing around, you idiot!" Maya snapped back, her eyes flashing with a dangerous mix of adrenaline and desperate fury. She slammed the bucket down onto the tray, the metal clattering loudly in the sterile, quiet room. "I told you to stay out of his private files, Leo! Did you really think you could dig up my dad's research on neuro-regeneration without paying a price?"
"I was just looking for my scholarship recommendation letter!" Leo yelled, his chest heaving as he stared down at the crude blocks encasing his fingers. "Your dad promised it to me weeks ago, and when I saw his office door unlocked, I walked in. I didn't steal anything!"
"You saw the specimen logs, Leo. Don't lie to me," Maya whispered, leaning in so close he could smell the faint scent of copper and old paper on her collar. She pointed a trembling finger right at his nose, her face twisting with an ugly, protective snarl. "Cat got your hands? Stop snooping around my dad's office, or next time I use concrete!"
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Before Leo could fire back another furious warning, a sharp metallic clatter echoed from the far corner of the lab. Both of them froze instantly. Maya gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth in sheer horror as she stared past Leo’s shoulder. On the white-tiled floor, a hollow red wax ear model rolled slowly to a complete stop, right beside a pair of fresh, muddy bootprints that definitely did not belong to either of them.
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