The morning sunlight streamed through the window of Kai Paradox's small bedroom, warming the cluttered space with its golden glow. On the floor, a heap of brightly colored toys surrounded a model spaceship he'd built with his father last weekend. His bed, perpetually unmade, was adorned with a patchwork quilt his mother had sewn, patterned with stars and galaxies—her nod to his fascination with space.

"Kai! Breakfast!" his mother’s voice rang out from downstairs, slicing through the quiet hum of the morning.

Kai groaned and pulled his blanket over his head. At eight years old, he had perfected the art of procrastinating mornings. His alarm clock, shaped like a cartoon rocket, buzzed again, prompting him to slap the snooze button with a reluctant hand.

From the kitchen below, the clatter of pans and the sizzle of bacon carried a comforting familiarity. His father, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a warm laugh, could be heard teasing his wife about her insistence on preparing a "balanced breakfast."

“Balanced? Since when does bacon count as balanced, Lisa?”

“It’s protein, James! Besides, Kai’s not eating sugary cereal every morning under my watch,” she shot back.

Kai smiled despite himself. His parents' banter was as much a part of the morning routine as brushing his teeth.

Throwing off his blanket, he hopped out of bed, ruffled his already unruly dark brown hair, and grabbed a clean shirt from his dresser. Today’s choice was an astronaut shirt, complete with a rocket blasting off from Earth.

Downstairs, the kitchen was filled with the aroma of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee. Lisa Paradox, a petite woman with sharp eyes and a ready smile, stood at the stove flipping pancakes. Her short, practical haircut made her look younger than her thirty-five years. James sat at the table, newspaper spread wide, sipping from a steaming mug emblazoned with “#1 Dad.”

“Morning, sleepyhead,” James greeted as Kai shuffled in, his eyes still bleary.

“Morning,” Kai mumbled, sliding into his usual seat.

Lisa placed a plate in front of him. “Eat up. You’ve got a big day ahead.”

“What’s so big about it?” Kai asked, cutting into his pancake lazily.

“Well,” she began, “it’s career day at school, remember? And James, don’t you have that presentation at work?”

James groaned. “Thanks for reminding me, Lisa. Nothing like pitching budget proposals to brighten a Monday.”

The conversation flowed easily, filled with small jokes and laughter. Yet, beneath the ordinary rhythm of the morning, there was a strange sense of unease—a subtle tension Kai couldn’t quite name.

Kai's walk to school was unremarkable, the way most days felt at that age. The narrow streets of his suburban neighborhood were lined with identical houses, each with neatly trimmed lawns and picket fences. Birds chirped in the trees, and a neighbor waved as he passed.

“Kai!” a familiar voice called.

He turned to see Mike, his best friend since kindergarten, pedaling furiously toward him on his bike. Mike skidded to a halt beside him, his face flushed with excitement.

“Guess what?” Mike said, his eyes wide with mischief.

“What?”

“I’m gonna bring a live frog to career day. It’ll freak out Mrs. Harper for sure.”

Kai laughed. “You’re gonna get detention for a week.”

“Worth it,” Mike grinned, hopping off his bike to walk beside Kai.

They arrived at school just as the bell rang. The day unfolded like any other—math problems, recess, and the occasional burst of laughter from the back of the classroom where Mike whispered his wild ideas. Yet, Kai couldn't shake the sense that something was different.

As the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the playground, Kai lingered near the swings. The breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

“Hey, you okay?” Mike asked, nudging him.

Kai hesitated. “Yeah. Just...thinking.”

“About what?”

Kai opened his mouth to answer but stopped. He wasn’t sure. There was nothing unusual about today—or was there?

That night, as he lay in bed, staring at the faint glow of the moon through his window, the feeling of unease returned. He rolled onto his side, clutching the edge of his quilt.

Something was coming. He didn’t know what, but it was as though the universe itself was holding its breath.

            Math class was boring. It was always boring.

Kai Paradox sat at his desk in Room 3B, staring at a multiplication problem on the board. The numbers swam before his eyes like tiny fish, refusing to line up the way they were supposed to. He tapped his pencil against the desk, trying to focus.

The classroom was filled with the usual sounds of shuffling papers, quiet murmurs, and Mrs. Harper’s chalk scratching against the board. She was explaining something about factors, but Kai had stopped listening five minutes ago.

“Kai, pay attention,” Mrs. Harper said, glancing his way.

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, sitting up straighter.

He hated math, but it wasn’t just the numbers that were bothering him today. It was that same strange feeling from the morning. Like something was about to happen.

The pencil rolled out of his hand and clattered onto the desk.

Frustrated, Kai glared at the math problem in front of him. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought, I just want this to be over.

Then it happened.

The pencil moved.

Not just a little twitch. It floated—just for a second. It hovered about an inch above the desk, spinning slightly. Kai blinked, and the pencil dropped back down with a quiet thud.

He froze, his heart pounding. Had anyone else seen?

The other kids were busy with their work. Mrs. Harper’s back was to the class as she wrote something on the board.

Did that really just happen? he thought.

Kai picked up the pencil slowly, turning it over in his hand. It felt normal—light, wooden, with a dull eraser on the end. But he couldn’t ignore what he’d just seen.

He tried to focus on his worksheet again, but his mind was racing. He glanced around the room nervously, half expecting someone to call him out.

Nothing.

During recess, Kai sat alone on a bench near the soccer field. Mike was playing with a group of kids, yelling and laughing as they chased the ball.

Kai held his pencil in his lap, staring at it like it held all the answers.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Mike called, jogging over.

Kai shoved the pencil into his pocket quickly. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what? You never think,” Mike teased, flopping onto the bench beside him.

“Very funny.” Kai tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Mike narrowed his eyes. “You okay? You’ve been weird all day.”

“I’m fine,” Kai said quickly, standing up. “Come on, let’s play.”

Mike shrugged and followed him to the field. But as the game went on, Kai couldn’t stop thinking about the pencil.

At home that evening, Kai sat at the kitchen table, pretending to do his homework.

“Everything alright, Kai?” his mom asked as she washed dishes.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You seem quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” he said, forcing a smile.

She nodded, but her eyes lingered on him for a moment before she turned back to the sink.

Kai’s dad walked in, loosening his tie. “How’s my favorite kid doing?”

“I’m your only kid, Dad,” Kai replied automatically.

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

Kai chuckled, but the smile faded as soon as his dad left the room.

He picked up the pencil again, holding it carefully. What if I wasn’t imagining it?

Upstairs in his room, Kai placed the pencil on his desk. He stared at it, his heart thudding in his chest.

Move, he thought.

Nothing happened.

He clenched his fists and tried again. Move!

The pencil wobbled slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Kai’s breath catch.

He sat back in his chair, staring at the pencil in disbelief.

Something was happening to him—something strange and impossible.

            The next day felt like it stretched on forever.

Kai couldn’t stop thinking about the pencil. Every time he replayed the moment in his mind, it seemed more impossible. Pencils don’t float, he told himself again and again.

He sat in class, staring at the chalkboard while Mrs. Harper explained something about fractions. His pencil lay untouched on his desk. He didn’t dare try anything again—not here, not with everyone watching.

“Mr. Paradox?” Mrs. Harper’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

She gave him a stern look. “If you’re done daydreaming, perhaps you can solve the problem on the board?”

The other kids snickered. Kai’s face turned red as he stood up and shuffled to the front of the room. He picked up the chalk with shaky hands, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

The math problem blurred in front of him. He tried to concentrate, but his thoughts kept spiraling. What if the pencil floated again? What if someone saw?

“Any day now,” Mrs. Harper said impatiently.

Kai scribbled an answer on the board—any answer—and hurried back to his seat. He heard the laughter behind him as he sat down, but he didn’t care.

At lunch, Mike slid into the seat beside him. “Okay, seriously, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Kai muttered, poking at his sandwich.

Mike frowned. “Come on, dude. You’ve been acting weird since yesterday. Did Mrs. Harper scare you or something?”

“No. I’m fine,” Kai said, more forcefully this time.

Mike held up his hands. “Alright, alright. But if something’s up, you know you can tell me, right?”

Kai nodded, but he didn’t say anything else.

That evening, Kai sat at his desk again, the same pencil lying in front of him.

He’d been staring at it for an hour, willing it to move. But no matter how hard he tried, it stayed stubbornly still.

Maybe I imagined it, he thought. Maybe I’m just going crazy.

He picked up the pencil and turned it over in his hands. It felt so normal. There was nothing special about it—nothing that could explain what had happened.

Kai leaned back in his chair and sighed. His room felt too quiet, too small.

The door creaked open, and his mom peeked in. “Kai? Everything okay?”

He quickly shoved the pencil under a book. “Yeah. Just tired.”

She walked in and sat on the edge of his bed. “You’ve seemed a little off lately. Want to talk about it?”

Kai hesitated. His mom was always good at listening, but how could he explain something like this?

“I’m fine,” he said finally.

She smiled gently and ruffled his hair. “Alright. But if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

After she left, Kai pulled the pencil out again. He placed it carefully in the center of the desk and stared at it until his eyes burned.

Move, he thought.

Nothing.

He slammed his fist on the desk, making the pencil jump slightly. But it didn’t float.

Kai felt a knot of frustration and fear growing in his chest. If he wasn’t imagining it, then what was going on? Was something wrong with him?

That night, Kai lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting faint shadows on the walls.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the pencil. About how it had floated, even for just a second.

What if it happens again? he wondered. What if I can’t control it?

The thought made his stomach churn. He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, trying to push it all away. But sleep didn’t come easily.

And when it finally did, it was restless, filled with strange dreams of objects floating and spinning around him.

            The day started like any other, but Kai couldn’t shake the restless feeling that had settled over him. The strange dreams from the night before lingered in his mind—images of floating objects and invisible forces pulling at him.

Downstairs, the kitchen was a hub of morning chaos. The smell of scrambled eggs filled the air as Kai’s mom worked over the stove. His dad sipped coffee while reading the newspaper, and the radio played soft jazz in the background.

“Kai, grab the plates,” his mom called.

“Okay.”

Kai opened the cabinet and carefully pulled out three plates. He hesitated for a moment, staring at them. What if something happened?

He shook the thought away and carried the plates to the table.

His mom glanced at him as she slid the eggs onto a platter. “You look tired. Did you stay up late?”

“No,” Kai said quickly. “Just had weird dreams.”

His dad folded the newspaper and gave Kai a curious look. “What kind of dreams?”

“Nothing, really. Just...weird stuff.”

“Probably too many cartoons before bed,” his mom said with a smile.

Kai forced a laugh, but his chest felt tight. He didn’t want to talk about it—not with them, not with anyone.

Later that afternoon, Kai helped his mom with the dishes. It was one of his least favorite chores, but she always insisted it built character.

“Pass me the dish towel,” she said, rinsing a plate under the faucet.

Kai grabbed the towel and handed it to her.

“Thanks. So, what’s going on at school?” she asked casually.

“Nothing much,” he replied, scrubbing a fork.

“You’ve been awfully quiet lately,” she said, her tone light but probing.

“I’m fine,” Kai said quickly. “Just tired.”

She nodded, but the worry in her eyes was clear.

As Kai reached for another plate, a truck rumbled by outside, shaking the house slightly. The plates in the drying rack rattled.

Kai froze.

The rattling didn’t stop.

At first, it was faint, almost like the vibration from the truck had lingered. But then the plates started to clink together louder, trembling against each other as if caught in a small quake.

“Kai, stop messing around,” his mom said, turning to look.

“I’m not!” he said, panic rising in his voice.

She frowned and reached out to steady the plates. The moment her hands touched them, they stopped moving.

She looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed. “What was that?”

“I—I don’t know,” Kai stammered.

“Probably the trucks,” she said after a moment, though her voice was uncertain.

Kai nodded quickly. “Yeah, probably.”

But he knew it wasn’t the trucks.

That evening, Kai sat alone in his room, his heart still racing from what had happened in the kitchen.

He didn’t understand what was going on. First the pencil, now the plates. It wasn’t normal.

He grabbed his journal from the desk drawer and flipped it open. It was a plain notebook, the kind he usually used for doodles and notes. But now, it had become something else—a place to keep track of the strange things he couldn’t explain.

He wrote quickly, his handwriting messy:

Day 1: Pencil floated. Only for a second. No one saw.
Day 2: Tried to make it move again. It worked, but barely. Nobody noticed.
Day 3: Plates rattled in the kitchen. Mom saw but blamed the trucks.


Kai stared at the page, his pencil hovering over the next line. Should he tell someone?

The thought made his stomach twist. If he told his parents, would they even believe him? Or would they think he was crazy?

He closed the journal and shoved it back into the drawer. No one could know—not yet.

That night, as Kai lay in bed, the fear returned. It wasn’t just about the floating pencil or the rattling plates. It was something deeper—a feeling that this was only the beginning.

He pulled his blanket up to his chin and stared at the shadows on the ceiling.

Whatever was happening to him, he had to figure it out.

            The house was silent.

Kai lay awake in his bed, staring at the faint glow of his alarm clock. The numbers read 1:12 AM. He rolled over, but sleep wouldn’t come. His mind kept replaying the events of the past few days—the pencil, the plates, the strange feeling in his chest when it happened.

Finally, he sat up, the quilt falling into a heap around him. The room was dim, the only light coming from the moon outside. He glanced at the door, listening for any sounds from his parents’ room.

Nothing.

Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. His bare feet were silent on the wooden floor as he crept to his desk.

The pencil was still there, lying in the exact spot where he’d left it earlier.

Kai took a deep breath and sat down.

Alright, he thought, staring at the pencil. Let’s figure this out.

For the first ten minutes, nothing happened.

Kai tried everything he could think of. He stared at the pencil until his eyes watered. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and even whispered under his breath, “Move. Come on. Move!”

The pencil didn’t budge.

He groaned and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Maybe he was imagining all of it. Maybe the pencil floating and the plates rattling were just coincidences.

But deep down, he didn’t believe that.

Kai leaned forward again, his hands resting on the edge of the desk. He closed his eyes and focused on the pencil, picturing it in his mind.

Just a little, he thought. Just a tiny bit. Please.

He felt something—a faint twinge in his chest, like a small spark.

When he opened his eyes, the pencil wobbled.

Kai’s heart leapt. He blinked, afraid it might have been his imagination. But no—the pencil had moved, just barely.

Excitement coursed through him. He sat up straighter, his hands gripping the desk.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s try again.”

For the next hour, Kai practiced.

At first, the pencil only twitched, shifting slightly before falling still. But as the minutes passed, the movements became stronger. It tipped over, rolled, and once—just for a moment—it hovered a fraction of an inch above the desk.

By the time the clock read 2:37 AM, Kai was exhausted. His head ached, and his chest felt heavy, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

He picked up the pencil, turning it over in his hands. It was the same as before—just a regular pencil. But now, it felt like something more.

Kai glanced at the small model spaceship sitting on his shelf. An idea sparked in his mind. He stood and grabbed it, placing it on the desk beside the pencil.

“Alright,” he said softly. “Let’s see if I can do more than just pencils.”

He sat back down and focused on the spaceship. It was heavier than the pencil, made of plastic and tiny metal parts.

Kai closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He thought about the spark in his chest, the feeling he’d had when the pencil moved.

Just a little, he thought. Just enough to see it work.

The spark came again, faint but steady.

When he opened his eyes, the spaceship tilted to one side.

By the time Kai finally climbed back into bed, the first light of dawn was creeping over the horizon. His body ached with exhaustion, but he felt a strange sense of pride.

For the first time, he felt like he had some control over whatever was happening to him.

As he drifted off to sleep, a small smile played on his lips.

            Kai sat at his desk, staring at the flyer his teacher had handed out that morning. In big, bold letters, it read:

“Annual Science Fair – Projects Due in Two Weeks!”

The entire class had groaned when Mrs. Harper announced the project. Science fairs were usually just an excuse for parents to build volcanoes or solar system models while the kids watched.

But for Kai, this year was different.

He twirled his pencil between his fingers, the words on the flyer blurring as he thought. Science was supposed to explain the world—how things worked, why things happened. Maybe it could explain what was happening to him.

“Okay,” Kai muttered to himself. “If I have to do this, I might as well make it useful.”

He pulled out his notebook and began to brainstorm.

At recess, Kai found Mike sitting under their usual tree, munching on a peanut butter sandwich.

“Hey, Mike,” Kai said, plopping down beside him.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“I need an idea for the science fair,” Kai said, trying to sound casual.

Mike grinned. “How about a frog-launching catapult?”

Kai snorted. “Yeah, that’ll definitely win first prize.”

“Hey, it’s better than a potato battery,” Mike said, shoving the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.

Kai hesitated. “What about...magnetism?”

Mike frowned. “Like magnets and stuff? That sounds kinda boring.”

Kai shrugged. “Maybe. But I think it could be cool if I make it...different.”

Mike gave him a suspicious look. “Different how?”

“I don’t know yet,” Kai said quickly. “But I’ll figure it out.”

That evening, Kai sat at the kitchen table, scribbling in his notebook while his mom cooked dinner.

“What’s all this?” she asked, glancing at the pages filled with messy diagrams and notes.

“Science fair project,” Kai said without looking up.

His mom smiled. “Look at you, all serious about school for once. What’s the project about?”

“Magnetism,” Kai said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Sounds ambitious. Need any help?”

“No, I’ve got it,” Kai said, flipping to a blank page.

“Alright, but don’t wait until the last minute,” she said, setting a plate of spaghetti in front of him.

“I won’t,” Kai mumbled, though he wasn’t so sure.

Over the next few days, Kai threw himself into the project. He borrowed books from the school library, watched videos online, and even asked his dad to take him to the hardware store to buy magnets and copper wire.

But every time he worked on it, his thoughts drifted back to his powers.

What if he could use them for the project? Would anyone notice?

The idea both excited and terrified him.

A week before the science fair, Kai set up his experiment in his room. He had built a small contraption using magnets, wires, and a motor he’d taken from an old toy car. The goal was to show how magnetism could create movement—something simple enough to explain but still impressive.

As he worked, he couldn’t resist testing his powers.

He placed a metal washer on the desk and focused on it, the way he’d practiced late at night.

Move, he thought, his chest tightening with effort.

The washer wobbled, then slid across the desk toward him.

Kai grinned, his heart pounding.

He picked up the washer and placed it back on the desk. This time, he tried something different. Instead of thinking about moving it, he imagined it hovering—floating just like the pencil had.

The washer lifted off the desk, wobbling slightly before falling back down with a soft clink.

“Whoa,” Kai whispered, staring at it.

He couldn’t use his powers in front of everyone at the science fair. That much was obvious. But the thought of practicing in secret, of understanding what he could really do, made him feel a little less afraid.

The night before the science fair, Kai lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

His project was ready, and he felt confident it would work. But what really excited him wasn’t the magnets or the motor.

It was the possibility that he could understand himself—that maybe, just maybe, science could help him figure out who he was becoming.

            The schoolyard was alive with the sounds of shouting kids and the thud of a soccer ball hitting the fence. Recess was always the best part of the day, and the playground buzzed with energy as groups of children scattered to their favorite activities.

Kai stood off to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets, watching as Mike and a few others chased the soccer ball across the uneven grass.

“You’re not playing today?” Mike called, pausing long enough to give Kai a confused look.

“Nah,” Kai said, shaking his head. “Just not in the mood.”

Mike shrugged and sprinted off after the ball, his laughter ringing out as he tackled another kid to steal possession.

Kai turned away and wandered toward the back of the playground, where the swings sat empty. He climbed onto one and kicked at the dirt, letting the chains creak as he swung lazily back and forth.

In his pocket, he fingered the small metal washer he’d brought from home. It had become a habit lately—keeping something small and light with him, just in case.

Kai glanced around to make sure no one was watching. The teachers were busy chatting near the school building, and the other kids were too focused on their games.

He pulled the washer out and held it in his palm, his fingers curling around it protectively.

Just a little, he thought, focusing his mind on the washer.

It wobbled slightly, tilting up on one edge before falling still.

Kai’s heart raced. He glanced around again, but no one seemed to notice.

He closed his hand around the washer and sat there for a moment, his mind racing. He wanted to try again—maybe even do something bigger—but the risk of being caught made his stomach churn.

After school, Kai and Mike headed to the library.

Mike flopped into a chair near the back, pulling a comic book from his backpack. “You’re acting weird again,” he said without looking up.

“I’m fine,” Kai said quickly, flipping through a book about magnets.

Mike lowered the comic and raised an eyebrow. “Come on, dude. You’ve been all secretive and stuff lately. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Kai muttered, keeping his eyes on the page.

Mike sighed and leaned back in his chair, tossing the comic onto the table. “You’re such a bad liar.”

Kai froze, his fingers tightening on the book. He wanted to tell Mike—he really did. But how could he explain something like this?

“I’ll tell you later,” Kai said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Promise?” Mike asked, leaning forward.

Kai hesitated, then nodded. “Promise.”

That evening, Kai sat at his desk, staring at the washer again.

He wanted to test himself, to see what else he could do. But every time he tried, a wave of fear held him back.

What if something went wrong? What if someone found out?

He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “Just try,” he whispered to himself.

He placed the washer in the middle of the desk and closed his eyes.

Lift, he thought, the word repeating in his mind like a drumbeat.

The spark in his chest flared, and when he opened his eyes, the washer was floating.

It hovered an inch above the desk, spinning slowly in the air. Kai stared at it, hardly daring to breathe.

Then, with a soft clink, it fell back to the desk.

Kai exhaled, his whole body trembling.

He’d done it.

The next day, Kai found a quiet spot behind the school library during lunch.

He pulled the washer out of his pocket and placed it on the ground.

“Alright,” he muttered, kneeling down. “Let’s see how far this goes.”

He focused on the washer, his mind zeroing in on the small object.

It wobbled, then lifted into the air. Kai grinned, his excitement building as it floated higher.

“Whoa.”

Kai’s heart stopped. He turned to see Mike standing a few feet away, his mouth hanging open.

“Mike!” Kai yelped, grabbing the washer as it fell. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Mike said, walking closer. “Dude, what was that?”

“It was...nothing,” Kai said quickly, shoving the washer into his pocket.

Mike crossed his arms. “That didn’t look like nothing. That washer was floating.”

Kai hesitated, his mind racing. He couldn’t lie—Mike had seen everything.

“Alright,” Kai said finally, his voice low. “But you can’t tell anyone. Promise?”

Mike’s eyes lit up. “Are you kidding? This is the coolest thing ever!”

“I’m serious, Mike. If anyone finds out—”

“I won’t say anything,” Mike said quickly. “But you have to show me how you did it.”

Kai sighed. “Fine. But not here.”

That night, Kai and Mike sat in Kai’s room, the door locked and the curtains drawn.

“Alright,” Kai said, placing the washer on his desk. “Watch carefully.”

Mike leaned forward, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Kai focused, his chest tightening as he willed the washer to move. Slowly, it lifted off the desk, spinning gently in the air.

“Whoa,” Mike whispered.

Kai let it fall back to the desk and turned to face his friend. “Now you see why no one can know.”

Mike nodded, his expression serious. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. But...what are you gonna do with it?”

“I don’t know,” Kai admitted. “I just want to understand it.”

Mike grinned. “Well, if you ever decide to become a superhero, let me know.”

Kai chuckled, but the weight of what he’d shown Mike lingered in the back of his mind.

            It had been a week since Mike found out about Kai’s secret. To Kai’s surprise, Mike hadn’t blabbed to anyone—not even when their teacher caught him daydreaming in class and asked what was so interesting.

But having Mike know the truth was both a relief and a constant source of tension. Every time they talked about it, Kai felt a mix of excitement and dread.

Now, they sat together behind the school library during recess, away from prying eyes.

“Okay, show me again,” Mike said, practically bouncing on his heels.

“Mike, we can’t keep doing this,” Kai whispered, glancing around nervously.

“Come on! No one’s around,” Mike said, waving his arms at the empty yard.

Kai sighed. He pulled a small paperclip from his pocket and placed it on the ground between them.

“Fine. But this is the last time.”

Mike nodded eagerly.

Kai took a deep breath and focused on the paperclip. The now-familiar spark ignited in his chest, and the paperclip wobbled before lifting into the air. It spun slowly, catching the sunlight before dropping back to the ground.

Mike let out a low whistle. “Man, that is awesome.”

Kai picked up the paperclip and shoved it back into his pocket. “It’s not awesome. It’s...weird. What if someone finds out?”

“Then we make a deal with the government,” Mike said, grinning. “They’ll probably give us free ice cream or something.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. More like they’ll stick me in a lab.”

Mike’s grin faded. “You really think so?”

Kai nodded, his stomach tightening. “I don’t know what this is, but it’s not normal. If anyone finds out, it’s game over.”

Mike frowned but didn’t argue.

That afternoon, Kai sat in the back of the classroom, trying to focus on his homework. But his thoughts kept drifting.

What if Mike was right? What if there was some way to use his powers without getting in trouble?

But every time he let himself imagine the possibilities, the fear crept in. What if someone saw him? What if they told?

Kai shook his head and bent over his notebook. He needed to focus on normal things—things that didn’t make his chest feel like it was about to explode.

Later, as they walked home from school, Mike kept glancing at Kai like he was waiting to say something.

“Spit it out,” Kai said finally.

Mike hesitated. “You know, you could probably get better at it if you practiced more.”

“I already practice,” Kai said.

“No, I mean, like...bigger stuff,” Mike said, gesturing wildly. “You’ve been lifting little things, but what if you tried something heavier? Like, I don’t know, a rock or something?”

Kai shook his head. “That’s too risky.”

“But you don’t know until you try,” Mike insisted. “Come on, we could go to the park after dinner. No one’s ever there at night.”

Kai hesitated. The idea of pushing himself further was tempting. He wanted to know how far his powers could go.

“Fine,” he said finally. “But if anything goes wrong, we’re out of there.”

Mike grinned. “Deal.”

That night, they met at the park, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.

“This is so cool,” Mike said, his voice low but excited.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Kai muttered, scanning the empty park.

They found a small clearing near the edge of the woods, far enough from the houses that no one would notice them.

Mike pointed to a large rock sitting in the middle of the clearing. “Try that.”

Kai stared at the rock, doubt gnawing at him. “What if I can’t do it?”

“Then we keep trying,” Mike said. “Come on, you’ve got this.”

Kai took a deep breath and stepped closer to the rock. He crouched down and placed his hand on it, feeling the cool surface beneath his fingers.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Here goes.”

He closed his eyes and focused, imagining the rock lifting off the ground. The spark in his chest flared, stronger than before.

The rock shifted, then lifted a few inches into the air.

Mike let out a gasp. “No way!”

Kai opened his eyes, his heart pounding as the rock hovered in front of him.

But then the spark faltered.

The rock wobbled and crashed back to the ground with a heavy thud.

Kai stumbled back, his chest heaving.

“That was incredible!” Mike said, grabbing Kai’s shoulders. “You just lifted a rock, dude!”

Kai shook his head. “It wasn’t much.”

“Are you kidding? That was amazing!”

Kai couldn’t help but smile. For the first time, he felt a small glimmer of hope.

Maybe he wasn’t just a freak.

As they left the park, neither of them noticed the figure watching them from the shadows.

The man’s eyes followed Kai as he walked away, his expression unreadable.

            The next day after school, Kai and Mike met at their usual spot under the big oak tree by the park. Mike was already there, sprawled out on the grass, tossing a small rubber ball into the air and catching it lazily.

“You’re late,” Mike said without looking up.

Kai flopped down beside him. “I had to stay after class. Mrs. Harper wanted to ‘talk about my potential.’” He mimicked her stern voice, rolling his eyes.

Mike snorted. “Yeah, because you’re so full of potential.”

Kai chuckled but quickly grew serious. He plucked a blade of grass and began twisting it between his fingers. “You know, last night was...different.”

“Different how?” Mike asked, sitting up.

Kai shrugged. “The rock—it was heavier than anything I’ve tried before. And when I lifted it, I felt...I don’t know, stronger. Like I was pulling from something bigger.”

Mike’s eyes lit up. “That’s awesome! See? I told you, you’re just scratching the surface.”

Kai hesitated. “But what if it’s dangerous? What if I can’t control it?”

Mike tossed the ball aside and turned to face him. “Kai, you’ve got something incredible. You just need to keep practicing. And you don’t have to do it alone—I’ll help you.”

Kai met his friend’s gaze. “You really mean that?”

“Of course,” Mike said, grinning. “What are best friends for?”

They spent the afternoon brainstorming ideas for Kai’s practice sessions.

“What about speed?” Mike suggested. “Can you move things faster?”

Kai frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve only been focusing on lifting stuff.”

“Well, let’s try it,” Mike said, grabbing a small stick. He placed it on the ground in front of Kai. “See how fast you can move this.”

Kai nodded and crouched down, his hands resting on his knees. He focused on the stick, willing it to slide across the dirt.

The familiar spark flared in his chest, and the stick twitched before zipping forward a few inches.

“Yes!” Mike cheered, jumping to his feet.

Kai grinned, his heart racing. He tried again, this time pushing the stick further and faster. It skidded across the ground, hitting a rock with a satisfying clink.

“Dude, you’re getting good at this,” Mike said, clapping him on the back.

Kai laughed, the tension in his chest easing for the first time in days.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Mike turned to Kai with a serious expression.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Kai said, brushing dirt off his jeans.

Mike hesitated, then said, “What are you gonna do if...you know, someone finds out? Like a teacher, or your parents, or...” He trailed off, his face clouded with worry.

Kai looked down at his hands. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t think I can hide it forever. But for now, I just want to figure out what this is.”

Mike nodded slowly. “Well, no matter what happens, I’ve got your back. Okay?”

Kai smiled. “Thanks, Mike. That means a lot.”

They bumped fists, a silent promise passing between them.

That night, as Kai lay in bed, he thought about Mike’s words.

It felt good to have someone who knew his secret—someone who didn’t think he was a freak. But the thought of being discovered still made his stomach churn.

Kai stared at the ceiling, the faint glow of moonlight casting shadows on the walls.

I have to be careful, he thought. But at least I’m not alone anymore.

            Gym class was always a chaotic mix of squeaky sneakers, shouted instructions, and kids trying their best to look like they were playing without actually putting in much effort. Today was no different.

Kai stood near the edge of the basketball court, watching as a group of kids fumbled through a game. Coach Daniels blew his whistle, his voice booming across the gym.

“Paradox! You’re up!”

Kai groaned inwardly. He wasn’t bad at basketball, but he didn’t love it either. Still, he jogged onto the court, wiping his sweaty palms on his shorts.

The game resumed with its usual frantic energy. Kai darted between players, trying to keep up. The ball passed from one kid to another, bouncing off the court with loud thuds.

“Kai! Over here!”

Kai turned just in time to see the ball hurtling toward him. He caught it awkwardly, stumbling back a step.

“Shoot!” someone yelled.

He hesitated, the basket seeming impossibly far away. The other team’s players closed in, their sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.

Kai took a deep breath and aimed.

The ball arced through the air, wobbling slightly as it neared the basket.

Please go in, Kai thought desperately.

And then, something strange happened.

For a split second, Kai felt the now-familiar spark in his chest. The ball seemed to correct its path, veering slightly before dropping cleanly through the hoop.

The gym erupted in cheers.

“Nice shot!” one of his teammates shouted, clapping him on the back.

Kai forced a smile, but his mind was racing. Did I just do that?

The rest of the game passed in a blur. Kai avoided touching the ball again, afraid of what might happen.

After class, he lingered by the bleachers, pretending to tie his shoe as the other kids filed out.

“You okay?” Mike asked, hanging back to wait for him.

Kai glanced around to make sure they were alone. “Something weird happened,” he said in a low voice.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Weirder than usual?”

Kai nodded. “I think...I think I moved the ball. Just a little. Like, I didn’t mean to, but it felt like I did.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “No way. That’s awesome!”

“It’s not awesome!” Kai hissed. “What if someone noticed?”

Mike shrugged. “No one said anything. And besides, it’s not like you’re glowing or floating or something. Chill.”

Kai sighed. “I guess. But I need to be more careful.”

That evening, Kai couldn’t stop thinking about the game. He replayed the moment in his mind—the spark, the ball shifting midair, the way it seemed to follow his will.

He sat at his desk, staring at the notebook where he’d been tracking his powers.

Day 10: Controlled a basketball, sort of. Didn’t mean to. No one noticed.

Kai closed the notebook and leaned back in his chair. The more his powers grew, the harder it was to keep them hidden.

The next morning, as Kai walked to school, he spotted something that made his stomach drop.

A man in a black suit was standing near the playground fence, watching the kids as they arrived.

Kai froze, his heart pounding. The man’s gaze seemed to linger on him for a moment before shifting away.

“Hey, you coming?” Mike called, jogging up beside him.

Kai nodded quickly, forcing himself to move.

“Who’s that guy?” Mike asked, glancing at the man.

“I don’t know,” Kai said, his voice tight.

“Maybe he’s a parent,” Mike suggested.

“Maybe,” Kai muttered, though he didn’t believe it.

As they walked into the school building, Kai couldn’t shake the feeling that the man’s eyes were still on him.

            Over the next few weeks, Kai’s abilities became harder to ignore.

At first, it was small things—objects moving slightly when he was upset or tired. But soon, the changes became more noticeable. He could feel the spark in his chest more often now, a faint hum that seemed to be waiting for his command.

Kai practiced in secret whenever he could, always careful to keep the door locked and the curtains closed. His room became a makeshift training ground, littered with small objects he could lift, spin, and push across the desk.

But no matter how much he practiced, the fear lingered.

One evening, Kai sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, staring at a toy car he’d set in front of him. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan overhead.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s try something new.”

He closed his eyes and focused, picturing the car in his mind. He imagined it lifting off the ground, its wheels spinning in the air.

The spark flared in his chest, stronger than ever.

When he opened his eyes, the car was hovering a foot above the floor. It wobbled slightly, but it stayed in the air.

Kai grinned, his heart pounding. He focused harder, willing the car to move forward. It inched across the room, floating toward his bed.

Suddenly, the spark faltered. The car dropped to the floor with a loud clatter.

“Kai? Everything okay in there?” his mom’s voice called from the hallway.

Kai scrambled to his feet, kicking the car under his bed. “Yeah, I’m fine!”

He held his breath as the sound of her footsteps faded.

The next day at school, Kai found himself staring at the black car parked across the street.

It had been there for three days now, always in the same spot.

“What’s up with you?” Mike asked, nudging Kai as they walked to class.

“Nothing,” Kai said quickly, tearing his eyes away from the car.

Mike frowned. “You’ve been jumpy lately. Did something happen?”

Kai hesitated. “I think...someone might be watching me.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Who?”

Kai gestured toward the car. “See that? It’s been there all week.”

Mike squinted at the car, then shrugged. “Maybe it’s just a neighbor or something.”

“Maybe,” Kai said, but the unease in his chest wouldn’t go away.

That afternoon, Kai went straight to his room after school.

He sat on his bed, staring at his hands. He could feel the spark inside him, like a coiled spring waiting to be released.

I need to get better at this, he thought. If someone’s watching me, I have to be ready.

Kai remembered a TV show he’d seen about meditation and focus. The host had talked about clearing your mind, breathing deeply, and finding your center.

He sat cross-legged on the floor, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

The spark in his chest felt closer now, more accessible. He focused on it, imagining it as a glowing ball of light.

Stay calm, he told himself. Stay in control.

The spark grew brighter in his mind, and he felt a strange sense of peace wash over him.

When he opened his eyes, a pair of small pencils were floating in front of him, spinning slowly in the air.

Kai smiled.

As the days passed, Kai’s control improved. He found that staying calm and focused made it easier to use his abilities. When he let fear or frustration take over, the spark would falter, and things would spiral out of control.

But with practice, he was able to lift heavier objects, move things faster, and even hold multiple items in the air at once.

Still, the black car across the street remained.

One evening, as Kai sat on his bed writing in his notebook, his dad poked his head into the room.

“Hey, buddy. You’ve been cooped up in here a lot lately. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just homework,” Kai said quickly, closing the notebook.

His dad walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. “You know, when I was your age, I used to spend hours building model airplanes. Drove my mom crazy with all the glue and paint everywhere.”

Kai smiled faintly. “Sounds fun.”

“It was. But you know what made it even better?” his dad said, ruffling his hair.

“What?”

“Sharing it with someone,” his dad said, his voice soft.

Kai looked down at his hands. “I’m fine, Dad. Really.”

His dad sighed and stood. “Alright. But if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”

As the door closed behind him, Kai felt a pang of guilt.

He wished he could tell his dad the truth, but the thought of what might happen if he did was too much to bear.

            The school library was a quiet refuge, far from the chaos of classrooms and noisy hallways. Rows of books stretched endlessly, their spines neatly aligned and glowing softly in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

Kai wandered aimlessly between the shelves, letting his fingers brush against the books as he passed. He wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, but something about the library felt safe.

“Lost, Paradox?”

Kai turned to see Mrs. Thompson, the librarian, peering at him over her glasses.

“Just looking,” Kai said quickly.

Mrs. Thompson smiled. “Well, if you need help, let me know.” She turned back to her desk, her bracelets jingling softly as she moved.

Kai continued walking, his eyes scanning the rows of books. He rounded a corner and stopped in front of a section labeled “Unexplained Phenomena.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Then, his curiosity got the better of him.

The books in this section were old, their covers faded and their pages yellowed with age. Titles like The Mystery of the Mind and Unlocking Your Hidden Potential jumped out at him.

Kai pulled a book from the shelf. It was thick and heavy, the title stamped in gold letters:

“Telekinesis: Myth or Reality?”

His breath caught. Telekinesis.

He opened the book, flipping through its pages quickly. Diagrams of brains, charts, and photographs of people concentrating on objects filled the pages.

One sentence caught his eye:

"The phenomenon of telekinesis, or the ability to move objects with the mind, has been a topic of debate for centuries. While skeptics dismiss it as pseudoscience, others believe it is an untapped human potential."

Kai’s hands trembled as he turned the page. The words seemed to jump out at him, confirming what he’d been afraid to admit.

This was real.

Kai spent the rest of the afternoon buried in the book.

He learned about experiments where people had claimed to move objects with their minds, techniques for focusing mental energy, and theories about how emotions could amplify the ability.

One section stood out:

"Practitioners often report a ‘tingling’ or ‘spark-like’ sensation in the chest or head before successfully moving an object. This sensation is thought to be the activation of latent neural pathways."

Kai sat back, his mind racing. That spark—it was exactly what he felt every time he used his powers.

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then slipped the book into his backpack.

That night, Kai sat at his desk, the library book open in front of him. He read through the pages again, taking notes in his notebook.

Day 15: Found a book about telekinesis. Talks about the spark I feel. Says emotions might make it stronger.

The idea that his powers could be tied to his emotions made sense. He’d noticed before that when he was scared or angry, his abilities became harder to control.

He closed the notebook and leaned back in his chair, staring at the book.

If this was real—if telekinesis was something people could actually do—what did that mean for him?

The next day at school, Kai showed the book to Mike.

“Whoa,” Mike said, flipping through the pages. “You found this in the library?”

Kai nodded. “It explains a lot. Like the spark I feel—that’s normal for people who can do this.”

“People like you,” Mike said, grinning.

“Yeah,” Kai said, though the word felt strange.

Mike looked up from the book. “So, what’s the plan? Are you gonna keep practicing? Or...I don’t know, go full superhero?”

Kai rolled his eyes. “I’m just trying to figure this out, Mike. I’m not saving the world or anything.”

“Yet,” Mike added with a smirk.

Kai sighed but couldn’t help smiling.

That evening, Kai decided to test the book’s theories.

He cleared his desk, placing a series of objects in a row: a pencil, a coin, and a small toy car.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the pencil. He thought about the spark, the way it flared in his chest when he concentrated.

The pencil wobbled, then lifted into the air.

Kai opened his eyes and grinned. He moved on to the coin, focusing harder this time. The spark grew stronger, and the coin spun in midair before dropping back onto the desk.

Finally, he tried the toy car.

This time, he imagined the spark growing brighter, spreading through his whole body. The car lifted smoothly, hovering several inches above the desk.

“Yes!” Kai whispered, his excitement bubbling over.

For the first time, Kai felt like he was beginning to understand his powers.

But as he sat there, the book still open on his desk, a nagging thought crept into his mind.

If telekinesis was real, then other people might know about it too.

And not all of them would be friendly.

            Kai’s neighborhood always felt safe. The quiet streets, the rows of identical houses with perfectly trimmed lawns—it was the kind of place where nothing ever happened. But lately, something had changed.

It started with the black car.

At first, Kai had thought it was just a neighbor’s visitor or someone lost looking for directions. But the car had been parked across the street from his house for three days now, always in the same spot.

And the driver was always watching.

Kai noticed him every morning as he left for school—a man in dark sunglasses, pretending to read a newspaper or scroll on his phone. But his gaze would flick toward Kai just a little too often.

“Mike,” Kai whispered as they sat on the swings at recess.

“What?” Mike asked, lazily kicking at the dirt.

“I think someone’s watching me.”

Mike stopped swinging and gave him a skeptical look. “You’re just being paranoid.”

“I’m serious,” Kai insisted. “There’s this guy in a black car. He’s been outside my house for days.”

Mike frowned. “Okay, that’s creepy. Did you tell your parents?”

Kai shook his head. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Mom and Dad, I think some guy’s spying on me because I have telekinesis’? Yeah, that’ll go over great.”

Mike tilted his head, considering. “Maybe it’s not about your powers. Maybe it’s...I don’t know, some boring adult thing. Like insurance or something.”

“Maybe,” Kai muttered, but he didn’t believe it.

That evening, Kai sat at the kitchen table, pushing his food around his plate. His parents were talking about work—his mom complaining about a stubborn client, his dad joking about office politics.

“Kai, you’ve been quiet lately,” his mom said suddenly, her sharp eyes narrowing on him. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Kai said quickly. “I’m fine.”

She frowned, but before she could press him further, his dad chimed in.

“Probably just school stress,” his dad said with a chuckle. “I remember hating math at his age too.”

Kai forced a laugh, grateful for the distraction.

But as the conversation shifted, he couldn’t help glancing out the window. The black car was still there, its headlights glowing faintly in the dusk.

That night, Kai decided to take a closer look.

After his parents went to bed, he slipped on his sneakers and crept out the back door. The cool night air sent a shiver down his spine as he made his way around the side of the house.

The car was still parked in its usual spot, the driver’s figure barely visible through the tinted windows.

Kai crouched behind a bush, his heart pounding. He felt the spark in his chest, faint but steady, as if it were urging him forward.

He picked up a small rock and held it in his hand.

Just a little, he thought. Just to see what happens.

The spark flared, and the rock floated into the air. Kai willed it forward, sending it gently toward the car. It tapped the window softly, making a faint clink.

The figure inside shifted, his head snapping toward the noise.

Kai ducked lower, his heart racing. He watched as the driver stepped out of the car, scanning the area. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a sharp black suit.

Kai held his breath, his chest tightening.

The man looked around for a few moments, then climbed back into the car.

Kai waited until the headlights turned off before sneaking back inside.

The next morning, the car was gone.

“Maybe he got bored,” Mike said when Kai told him.

“Or maybe he saw me,” Kai replied, his stomach twisting at the thought.

Mike gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Hey, if he didn’t do anything, maybe it’s not that bad. Just keep your head down, okay?”

Kai nodded, but the unease lingered.

That afternoon, as Kai walked home from school, he felt it again—the sensation of being watched.

He glanced over his shoulder and spotted another man, this one in a gray suit, leaning against a lamppost. The man’s eyes followed Kai as he walked past, his expression unreadable.

Kai’s hands clenched into fists.

When he reached his house, he ran upstairs to his room and locked the door.

He sat on his bed, staring out the window. If these people were watching him, it could only mean one thing.

They knew.

            Monday mornings were never fun, but this one felt off from the moment Kai walked into class.

Instead of Mrs. Harper’s familiar, no-nonsense presence, a stranger stood at the front of the room. She was tall and elegant, with sharp features and a smile that didn’t quite reach her piercing blue eyes.

“Good morning, class,” she said in a smooth, clear voice. “I’m Miss Vance, your substitute teacher. Mrs. Harper is out sick, so I’ll be filling in for the next couple of weeks.”

The room buzzed with whispers as the students exchanged curious looks. Substitutes were usually frazzled and overwhelmed, but Miss Vance radiated an unsettling calm.

Kai slid into his seat, his stomach twisting. There was something about her that made his skin crawl.

As the lesson began, Miss Vance moved around the classroom, her sharp eyes scanning the room like a hawk.

“Kai Paradox,” she said suddenly, her gaze locking onto him.

Kai froze. “Yes?”

“Would you mind answering the question on the board?” she asked, her tone pleasant but firm.

Kai looked at the board, realizing he hadn’t been paying attention. The math problem was simple, but his mind was too scattered to focus.

“Uh...seven?” he guessed.

Miss Vance smiled, though her expression seemed more like a smirk. “Not quite, but close. Pay attention, please.”

The class snickered, and Kai’s face burned as he slumped lower in his seat.

Throughout the day, Kai couldn’t shake the feeling that Miss Vance was watching him.

Every time she walked past his desk, he felt her eyes linger on him for a moment too long. During lunch, he caught her standing by the window, her gaze fixed on the playground where he and Mike sat.

“She’s creepy,” Mike muttered, biting into his sandwich.

Kai nodded. “I think she’s watching me.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Like the guys in the car?”

“Maybe,” Kai said. “I don’t know. But something about her isn’t right.”

That afternoon, Miss Vance handed out worksheets and walked around the room as the students worked.

“Kai,” she said softly, stopping beside his desk.

He looked up, startled. “Yes?”

She crouched down so they were eye level. “You’re quite a bright student,” she said, her tone almost too friendly.

“Uh, thanks,” Kai muttered, gripping his pencil tightly.

She tilted her head, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “You seem...different from the others.”

Kai’s heart raced. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Her smile returned, but it didn’t feel reassuring. “Oh, I think you do.”

Before he could respond, she straightened and walked away, leaving him frozen in his seat.

That night, Kai told Mike about the conversation.

“She definitely knows,” Kai said, pacing his room. “She said I was different. What does that even mean?”

Mike frowned, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “It could mean anything. Maybe she’s just weird.”

“Or maybe she’s here because of me,” Kai said, his voice rising.

“Okay, calm down,” Mike said, holding up his hands. “We don’t know that for sure. Just...act normal. Don’t give her a reason to notice you.”

Kai nodded, but his chest felt tight.

The next day, Miss Vance continued her strange behavior.

During science class, she asked Kai a series of oddly specific questions.

“So, Kai,” she began, leaning against her desk. “Do you like science?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said cautiously.

“Fascinating subject, isn’t it?” she said, her smile sharp. “Especially topics like...magnetism. Or energy fields.”

Kai’s hands clenched under the desk. “Yeah, I guess.”

Miss Vance studied him for a moment, then moved on to the next student.

By the end of the week, Kai was on edge. Miss Vance’s constant attention felt like a spotlight he couldn’t escape.

He began avoiding her whenever possible, keeping his head down and sticking close to Mike. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was onto him.

Late Friday afternoon, as the school emptied out, Kai spotted Miss Vance standing near the front doors, her sharp gaze sweeping over the departing students.

He ducked his head and hurried past, but he felt her eyes on him the entire way home.

That night, as he lay in bed, he stared at the ceiling, his mind racing.

If Miss Vance knew about his powers, then he was in more danger than he’d realized.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

            The house was unusually quiet as Kai sat at the kitchen table, picking at his breakfast. His mom stood by the stove, her back turned as she flipped pancakes. Normally, she’d be chatting about her day or reminding him to clean his room, but today, she seemed distracted.

“Kai, honey,” she said after a long silence, her tone cautious.

“Yeah?” he replied, looking up.

She hesitated, then turned to face him. “Is everything okay at school?”

Kai froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “Why?”

“You’ve just seemed...off lately,” she said, leaning against the counter. “Quieter than usual. And you’re spending so much time in your room.”

“I’m fine,” Kai said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just busy with school stuff.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying him the way only a mother could. “You know you can talk to me, right? If something’s bothering you?”

Kai nodded, but he couldn’t meet her gaze. “I know.”

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully, but Kai couldn’t shake the feeling that his mom was watching him more closely.

As he grabbed his backpack and headed for the door, she stopped him.

“Hey, wait a second,” she said, stepping into the hallway. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Kai hesitated, gripping the strap of his backpack tightly. “Yeah, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

She smiled faintly, but her worry was clear. “Alright. Just...let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Kai said, rushing out the door before she could ask anything else.

At school, Kai confided in Mike during lunch.

“My mom’s starting to notice,” he said, poking at his sandwich.

“Notice what?” Mike asked, his mouth full of chips.

“That I’m acting weird,” Kai replied. “She keeps asking if something’s wrong.”

“Well, you are acting weird,” Mike said with a grin.

Kai glared at him. “Not helping.”

“Okay, okay,” Mike said, holding up his hands. “Just...try to act normal. Don’t give her a reason to worry.”

Kai sighed. “Easier said than done.”

That evening, Kai sat in his room, his notebook open on his desk. He stared at the page, his pencil hovering over the paper.

Day 18: Mom’s asking questions. She knows something’s up.

He hesitated, then added:

The new teacher is still watching me. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this secret.

As he closed the notebook, he heard a soft knock at the door.

“Kai?”

His mom’s voice made him jump.

“Yeah?” he called, shoving the notebook into his desk drawer.

The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, a warm smile on her face. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Kai said, trying to sound normal.

She lingered for a moment, her gaze drifting around the room. “You’ve been spending a lot of time up here lately.”

“Just homework,” Kai said quickly.

She nodded slowly, then walked over and kissed the top of his head. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Kai said, his chest tightening.

As she left the room, he let out a shaky breath.

That night, Kai lay awake, staring at the faint glow of the moon through his curtains.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that his mom’s questions were just the beginning. If she kept pushing, she might find out the truth.

And if she did, everything would change.

            Kai knew the day would be bad as soon as he walked into the classroom and saw the stack of white envelopes on Miss Vance’s desk.

“Report cards,” she announced with a thin smile, her sharp gaze scanning the room. “I’ll be handing them out during homeroom.”

The class groaned collectively, but Kai barely heard them. His stomach twisted into knots.

He’d been so focused on his powers lately that his schoolwork had taken a back seat. Homework assignments were rushed or forgotten entirely, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d studied for a test.

Miss Vance started calling out names, each student trudging up to the desk to collect their envelope.

“Paradox,” she said finally, her voice cutting through the hum of chatter.

Kai’s legs felt like lead as he walked to the front of the room.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, taking the envelope from her outstretched hand.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I look forward to discussing your progress.”

Kai’s heart sank as he returned to his seat.

At lunch, Kai sat with Mike under their usual tree, the unopened envelope resting in his lap.

“Why haven’t you looked yet?” Mike asked, crunching on a bag of chips.

“Because I already know it’s bad,” Kai said, staring at the envelope like it might explode.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Mike said.

Kai sighed and tore it open. His eyes scanned the grades quickly:

Math: D
Science: C-
History: D+
English: C

“I’m dead,” Kai muttered, shoving the paper back into the envelope.

Mike peeked over his shoulder. “Whoa. Okay, yeah, that’s not great.”

“What am I supposed to tell my parents?” Kai asked, his voice rising.

Mike shrugged. “Just tell them you’ll do better next time.”

Kai groaned, burying his face in his hands.

At home, Kai tried to avoid his mom, but it didn’t work.

“Report cards came out today, didn’t they?” she asked as he walked through the door.

Kai froze. “Yeah.”

“Let’s see it,” she said, holding out her hand.

Kai reluctantly handed over the envelope, watching as she unfolded the paper.

Her face fell as she scanned the grades.

“Kai,” she said slowly, her voice heavy with disappointment. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he said, staring at the floor.

“This isn’t like you,” she said, placing the report card on the kitchen counter. “You’ve always done fine in school. Are you distracted? Is something bothering you?”

Kai hesitated. “I guess I’ve just been...tired lately.”

“Tired?” she repeated, her brow furrowing. “Tired from what?”

“School,” Kai said quickly. “And, uh, other stuff.”

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Kai, I need you to be honest with me. If there’s something going on, you need to tell me.”

“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” he insisted.

She sighed. “Alright, but these grades need to improve. We’re scheduling a meeting with your teacher.”

Kai’s stomach dropped. “A meeting?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “This isn’t something we can ignore.”

That night, Kai sat at his desk, his head in his hands.

The thought of his parents meeting with Miss Vance filled him with dread. She already seemed suspicious of him—what if she said something that gave away his secret?

He opened his notebook and scribbled a quick entry:

Day 20: Report card disaster. Parents want a meeting. Miss Vance is going to be there. I don’t know what to do.

Kai closed the notebook and stared out the window. The street was quiet, but the feeling of being watched lingered.

No matter what happened at that meeting, he knew one thing for sure.

He had to be careful.

            Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Kai poked at his mashed potatoes, barely listening as his parents discussed the upcoming parent-teacher meeting.

“Kai,” his dad said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Kai looked up, realizing both his parents were staring at him.

“Your mom and I were just saying we’ll talk to Miss Vance about how to help you stay on track,” his dad said, his tone calm but firm.

“Right,” Kai muttered, avoiding their eyes.

His mom sighed. “Honey, we just want to help. But you need to meet us halfway.”

Kai nodded, even though his chest felt tight. The thought of them talking to Miss Vance made his stomach churn.

After dinner, Kai sat in the living room, pretending to watch TV while his parents cleaned up. His mind was racing. What if Miss Vance mentioned something about his powers? What if she’d seen something he hadn’t noticed?

“Everything alright, kiddo?” his dad asked, plopping down beside him on the couch.

“Yeah,” Kai said quickly. “Just tired.”

His dad gave him a long look but didn’t push. “Alright. Try to get some rest, okay?”

“Okay,” Kai said, though he doubted he’d sleep at all.

Later that night, Kai sat at his desk, staring at the small paperclip he’d placed in the center.

He wanted to practice, to push himself further, but the fear of being caught held him back.

Just a little, he thought, taking a deep breath.

The spark flared in his chest as he focused on the paperclip. It wobbled, then lifted into the air, spinning slowly.

Suddenly, his bedroom door creaked open.

“Kai?”

He yelped, the paperclip dropping back onto the desk with a faint clink. He turned to see his mom standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Nothing!” Kai said quickly, shoving the paperclip into his desk drawer. “Just, uh, homework.”

His mom stepped closer, her gaze suspicious. “Homework? At this hour?”

“Yeah,” Kai said, his voice cracking. “Big assignment due tomorrow.”

She raised an eyebrow, then sighed. “Alright. But you need to get to bed soon. Don’t stay up all night.”

“I won’t,” Kai promised, his heart pounding.

As she left the room, he slumped back in his chair, his chest tight with panic. That had been too close.

The next day, Kai tried to shake off the lingering fear, but it clung to him like a shadow.

During lunch, he and Mike sat under their usual tree, the warm sun doing little to calm his nerves.

“What’s with you today?” Mike asked, biting into an apple.

“My mom almost caught me practicing last night,” Kai muttered, keeping his voice low.

Mike’s eyes widened. “What did she see?”

“Nothing, thankfully,” Kai said. “But she’s suspicious. And with the meeting coming up...”

Mike frowned. “You think Miss Vance is gonna say something?”

Kai nodded. “She’s been watching me, Mike. I know she knows something.”

Mike chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe she’s just weird. Or maybe...I don’t know, maybe she’s testing you.”

“Testing me for what?” Kai asked, his voice rising slightly.

“I don’t know,” Mike said. “But whatever happens, just keep your cool, okay? Don’t let her freak you out.”

Kai sighed, wishing it were that simple.

That evening, as Kai sat in the kitchen doing his homework, his mom walked in and set a glass of milk in front of him.

“You’ve been working hard today,” she said, smiling faintly.

“Yeah,” Kai muttered, not looking up.

She hesitated, then said, “Kai, is there something you’re not telling us?”

His stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been...different lately,” she said carefully. “Quieter. More distracted. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Kai said quickly, his palms sweating.

She studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But if there’s something you need to talk about, we’re here.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Kai said, forcing a smile.

That night, Kai lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.

The parent-teacher meeting was only a few days away, and the pressure felt unbearable.

He clenched his fists, trying to push the fear away.

Stay calm, he told himself. Stay in control.

But deep down, he knew the next few days could change everything.

            The schoolyard was unusually quiet that afternoon. Most of the kids were still inside finishing up their lunch, but Kai and Mike had slipped out early, heading to the far corner of the playground where no one would bother them.

“Alright,” Mike said, dropping his backpack onto the grass. “Let’s try something new.”

Kai glanced around nervously. The swings creaked in the breeze, and the faint sound of laughter echoed from the main yard. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Relax,” Mike said, rolling his eyes. “No one’s watching.”

Kai sighed, crouching down to pick up a soccer ball they’d found near the fence.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, holding the ball out.

“Move it,” Mike said simply, his grin wide.

Kai frowned. “I’ve done that already.”

“Yeah, but not something this big,” Mike said, stepping back. “Come on. Just try.”

Kai placed the ball on the ground and took a deep breath. He could feel the spark in his chest, faint but ready.

He focused on the ball, imagining it rolling forward. The spark flared, and the ball wobbled slightly, tilting to one side before falling still.

“Not bad,” Mike said, nodding in approval. “Now make it go further.”

Kai gritted his teeth and tried again. This time, the ball rolled a few inches before stopping.

“Yes!” Mike cheered, punching the air.

Kai couldn’t help but smile. “It’s harder than it looks.”

“Yeah, but you’re getting better,” Mike said.

For the next twenty minutes, Kai practiced, moving the ball farther and faster with each attempt. By the end, he managed to push it halfway across the clearing with one smooth motion.

“That was awesome,” Mike said, grabbing the ball. “You’re like a real-life superhero.”

“Superheroes don’t hide in playgrounds,” Kai muttered, though he couldn’t help feeling a surge of pride.

Mike grinned. “Maybe not, but you’ve got the powers for it.”

Kai shook his head. “I just want to figure this out without anyone finding out.”

Mike’s expression grew serious. “Hey, you’ve got this. We’ll figure it out together.”

Kai smiled faintly, grateful for his friend’s support.

As they packed up to leave, Kai froze, his stomach dropping.

A man in a black suit stood near the edge of the playground, half-hidden behind a tree. His gaze was fixed on them, unblinking.

“Mike,” Kai whispered, nudging his friend.

“What?” Mike asked, following Kai’s gaze. His eyes widened. “Who’s that?”

“I don’t know,” Kai said, his voice tight. “But we need to leave. Now.”

Mike grabbed his backpack, and the two of them hurried toward the school building, trying not to look back.

When they reached the doors, Kai chanced a glance over his shoulder.

The man was gone.

That evening, Kai sat in his room, replaying the moment in his mind.

Who was that man? And why was he watching them?

He pulled out his notebook and wrote quickly:

Day 22: Someone saw me practicing. A man in a black suit. I don’t know who he is, but I think he’s been watching me.

Kai stared at the page, his chest tight with anxiety.

Whatever was happening, it was getting harder to hide.

            That night, Kai tossed and turned in his bed, unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching him. Even with the curtains drawn and the house locked up tight, his nerves were on edge.

Eventually, exhaustion won out, and he drifted into a restless sleep.

The dream began like so many others—a hazy mix of places and faces that didn’t make sense. But this one felt different.

Kai stood in the middle of a vast, empty field under a dark sky. The air crackled with energy, a strange hum filling his ears. Around him, objects floated: books, chairs, and even a bicycle spinning slowly in midair.

“What is this?” Kai whispered, his voice echoing unnaturally.

The objects moved closer, circling him like planets in orbit. He reached out hesitantly, and the spark in his chest flared to life.

With a flick of his hand, the bicycle shot forward, spinning faster and faster before disintegrating into a shower of light.

Kai stared at his hand, his heart racing.

“You’re stronger than you realize,” a voice said from the shadows.

Kai spun around, but there was no one there. “Who’s there?” he called.

The voice didn’t answer. Instead, the floating objects began to tremble, their movements erratic. The hum grew louder, filling his head with a sharp, unbearable pressure.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him cracked, and he fell into darkness.

Kai woke with a start, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding. His room was dark and quiet, the faint glow of his alarm clock the only light.

He sat up, running a hand through his damp hair. The dream had felt so real—too real.

Kai glanced around his room, and his stomach dropped.

His desk chair was tipped over, his books were scattered across the floor, and the small model spaceship he’d built with his dad hovered an inch above his desk.

“No,” Kai whispered, scrambling out of bed.

The moment he reached for the spaceship, it dropped with a soft clatter.

Kai stared at it, his chest tight.

The next morning, Kai barely touched his breakfast. His mom noticed immediately.

“You look exhausted,” she said, placing a plate of toast in front of him. “Did you not sleep well?”

“I’m fine,” Kai said quickly, staring at his orange juice.

She frowned but didn’t push further.

At school, Kai told Mike about the dream.

“That’s freaky,” Mike said, unwrapping a granola bar. “You think it means something?”

“I don’t know,” Kai admitted. “But when I woke up, stuff in my room was floating. I think...I think I did it in my sleep.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “Dude, that’s crazy. What if you, like, start doing it all the time?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Kai said, his voice low.

“Well, maybe it’s like sleepwalking,” Mike suggested. “If you figure out what triggers it, you can stop it.”

Kai nodded, but his stomach churned at the thought.

That night, Kai tried to stay awake, afraid of what might happen if he fell asleep again.

He sat at his desk, staring at his notebook. The words he’d written earlier that day felt heavier than usual.

Day 23: I had a dream. Things were floating in it, and when I woke up, my room was a mess.

He tapped his pencil against the desk, his thoughts racing. What if the voice in the dream was right? What if his powers were stronger than he realized?

And what if he couldn’t control them?

Eventually, exhaustion won out, and Kai’s head slumped onto his desk.

The dream returned almost immediately.

This time, he was in a room full of mirrors. His reflection stared back at him, each one slightly different. Some looked older, others younger.

In one mirror, he saw himself surrounded by people in white lab coats. Wires were attached to his arms, and his face was pale and drawn.

“No,” Kai whispered, stepping back.

The reflection reached out, its hand pressing against the glass.

“You can’t hide forever,” it said, its voice echoing eerily.

Kai jolted awake, his heart pounding.

The next day, Kai couldn’t concentrate in class. Miss Vance seemed to notice, her sharp gaze lingering on him longer than usual.

“Kai,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yes?” he said quickly, sitting up straight.

“Stay after class,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Kai’s stomach twisted as the other students filed out at the end of the lesson.

When the room was empty, Miss Vance closed the door and turned to him.

“You’ve been distracted lately,” she said, her piercing blue eyes locking onto his.

“I’m fine,” Kai said quickly.

She tilted her head, her smile sharp. “Are you?”

Kai swallowed hard, his hands gripping the edge of his desk.

            Kai sat in the small waiting room outside the school counselor’s office, his knees bouncing nervously. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, and the air smelled faintly of cleaning supplies.

Miss Vance had insisted he meet with the counselor, her tone firm and final. “It’s for your own good,” she’d said, her sharp eyes practically daring him to argue.

Now, as he waited, Kai couldn’t help feeling like he was being cornered.

“Kai Paradox?” a voice called, breaking into his thoughts.

He looked up to see a tall woman standing in the doorway. She had kind eyes, framed by wire-rimmed glasses, and her curly hair was pulled into a loose bun.

“Hi, I’m Mrs. Albright,” she said with a warm smile. “Come on in.”

Kai followed her into the office, his chest tight.

Mrs. Albright’s office was small but cozy, with soft chairs and posters of motivational quotes on the walls. A small bookshelf was crammed with colorful titles, and a bowl of candy sat on the edge of her desk.

“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to a chair across from her.

Kai sat down, his hands gripping the armrests.

“So,” Mrs. Albright began, sitting down across from him, “Miss Vance said you’ve been a little distracted in class lately. Is everything okay?”

Kai hesitated, his mind racing. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

She tilted her head slightly, her kind eyes studying him. “You know, it’s okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes. School can be a lot.”

“I’m not overwhelmed,” Kai said quickly.

Mrs. Albright nodded. “Alright. But if there’s anything on your mind, this is a safe place to talk about it.”

Kai shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m really fine,” he said again, his voice tight.

The session dragged on, with Mrs. Albright asking gentle, probing questions that Kai deflected as best he could.

“Do you ever feel anxious?” she asked at one point.

“No,” Kai lied, his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“How about sleep? Are you getting enough rest?”

“Yeah,” Kai said, though the dark circles under his eyes probably told a different story.

By the end of the session, Kai felt like he’d run a marathon.

“Well,” Mrs. Albright said, standing up and offering him a smile, “if you ever want to talk, my door is always open.”

“Thanks,” Kai mumbled, practically bolting for the door.

Later that day, Mike found Kai sitting by their usual tree, his head resting in his hands.

“How’d it go?” Mike asked, flopping down beside him.

“She asked a bunch of questions,” Kai said, his voice muffled. “I think I managed to convince her I’m fine, but it was close.”

“Do you think she suspects anything?” Mike asked, lowering his voice.

“I don’t know,” Kai admitted. “But Miss Vance was the one who made me go, and she definitely knows something.”

Mike frowned, picking at a blade of grass. “We need to figure out what her deal is.”

Kai nodded, but the thought of confronting Miss Vance made his stomach twist.

That evening, Kai sat at his desk, his notebook open in front of him.

Day 24: Met with the school counselor. She didn’t seem suspicious, but Miss Vance definitely is. I need to be more careful.

He closed the notebook and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

Miss Vance’s attention was becoming impossible to ignore.

And if she kept pushing, it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

            The cafeteria was buzzing with noise as usual, the hum of a hundred conversations blending with the clatter of trays and silverware. Kai sat across from Mike, picking at a plate of spaghetti that looked more like glue.

“Are you going to eat that, or just stare at it?” Mike asked, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

“I’m not hungry,” Kai muttered, his eyes darting around the room. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

Mike leaned in, lowering his voice. “You’re seriously freaking me out. What’s going on?”

Kai hesitated, then sighed. “Miss Vance. She’s been acting weird ever since she showed up. And now she’s making me meet with the counselor? I think she knows something.”

Mike frowned, glancing around. “You think she’s...you know, like the guy in the black car?”

Kai nodded. “I don’t know who she’s working for, but I think she’s watching me.”

Mike opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, someone sat down next to him.

“Hey, Mike.”

Kai’s heart stopped. It was Miss Vance.

“Hi, Miss Vance,” Mike said, his voice tight.

“Kai,” she said, her sharp gaze locking onto him. “May I have a word with you after lunch?”

Kai nodded slowly, his stomach twisting into knots.

“Great,” she said, smiling. “I’ll see you in my classroom.”

As she walked away, Mike turned to Kai, his eyes wide. “Dude, this is bad.”

Kai nodded, his pulse pounding in his ears.

After lunch, Kai trudged to Miss Vance’s classroom, his heart hammering in his chest. She was sitting at her desk, a stack of papers in front of her.

“Close the door, please,” she said without looking up.

Kai obeyed, feeling like a prisoner walking into a cell.

“Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the desk in front of hers.

Kai sat down, his hands gripping the edge of his chair.

Miss Vance leaned forward, her piercing blue eyes studying him. “Kai, do you know why I asked you here?”

“No,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled faintly. “I think you do.”

Kai’s stomach churned.

That evening, Mike showed up at Kai’s house, his face pale.

“Kai,” he said urgently, grabbing his arm. “We need to talk.”

Kai led him to his room, shutting the door behind them. “What’s wrong?”

“I overheard Miss Vance on the phone,” Mike said, his voice shaking. “She was talking about you.”

“What did she say?” Kai asked, his chest tightening.

“She said something about ‘evaluating the subject’ and ‘reporting to the board.’”

Kai felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.

Mike grabbed his shoulders. “We need to figure out what’s going on. If she’s working for someone, we need to know who.”

Kai nodded, his mind racing. “But how?”

Mike grinned faintly, his confidence returning. “Leave that to me.”

That night, Kai couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Miss Vance’s words replaying in his mind.

She knew. There was no doubt about it now.

The question was, what would she do next?

            The night of the parent-teacher conference arrived faster than Kai had hoped, and his stomach twisted with every passing hour.

“Come on, Kai,” his mom called from downstairs. “Time to go!”

He trudged down the steps, his nerves fraying with each step. His dad stood by the door, adjusting his tie, while his mom grabbed her purse.

“You ready?” his dad asked, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” Kai muttered, though he felt anything but ready.

The school’s hallways were eerily quiet, the usual chaos replaced by the low murmur of parents and teachers talking in classrooms. Kai followed his parents to Miss Vance’s room, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead.

Miss Vance greeted them at the door with her usual sharp smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. Paradox, thank you for coming,” she said, shaking their hands. “Please, have a seat.”

Kai sat between his parents, his hands clenched in his lap.

The meeting started out normal enough. Miss Vance talked about his grades, her tone professional and calm.

“Kai is a bright student,” she said, her eyes flicking to him briefly. “But I’ve noticed he’s been a bit distracted lately.”

His mom nodded. “We’ve noticed that too. Is there something we should be concerned about?”

Kai’s chest tightened as Miss Vance leaned forward slightly, her smile thinning.

“Nothing too alarming,” she said, her tone measured. “But I do think Kai might benefit from some additional guidance.”

“What kind of guidance?” his dad asked, frowning.

Miss Vance’s gaze locked onto Kai, her expression unreadable. “Perhaps some evaluations to better understand his needs.”

Kai’s mom exchanged a look with his dad. “Evaluations?”

Miss Vance nodded. “There are certain programs that specialize in helping gifted children like Kai. They could provide him with the tools he needs to reach his full potential.”

Kai’s pulse pounded in his ears. “I don’t need evaluations,” he blurted out, his voice sharper than he intended.

His parents turned to him, their expressions surprised.

“I’m fine,” Kai said, forcing his voice to steady. “I just need to focus more. That’s all.”

Miss Vance’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Well,” his mom said after a moment, “we’ll think about it. Thank you for bringing it to our attention.”

“Of course,” Miss Vance said smoothly, standing up. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”

As they left the classroom, Kai’s mom glanced at him. “Kai, is there something you’re not telling us?”

“No,” he said quickly.

His dad frowned. “She seemed very interested in you.”

Kai shrugged, trying to appear casual. “She’s just weird.”

His mom didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push further.

That night, Kai lay awake, staring at the shadows on his ceiling.

Miss Vance wasn’t just suspicious—she was making plans. And if his parents agreed to her “evaluations,” it could mean the end of his freedom.

He had to find a way to stop her.

            The gymnasium buzzed with excitement as students and parents milled around, admiring the rows of projects lined up on tables. Tri-fold boards displayed colorful graphs, photos, and carefully typed explanations, while experiments whirred and clicked in the background.

Kai stood beside his display, a mix of nerves and anticipation twisting in his chest. His project—a simple demonstration of magnetic propulsion—was set up and ready. Two small magnets on a track pushed against each other, sending a small cart rolling forward.

“It’s not bad,” Mike said, munching on a bag of chips. “But you should’ve added fireworks or something.”

Kai smirked. “Yeah, because that wouldn’t be dangerous.”

Mike grinned. “Hey, danger gets attention.”

Kai rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile.

As the judges made their rounds, Kai tried to blend into the background. He wasn’t expecting to win—he just wanted to get through the day without drawing too much attention.

But when the judges stopped at his table, things didn’t go as planned.

“Ah, magnetic propulsion,” one of the judges said, leaning in to examine the setup. She was a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a clipboard. “Can you explain how it works?”

Kai nodded, swallowing hard. “Um, sure. The magnets repel each other because they’re the same pole. That force pushes the cart forward.”

The judge smiled. “Very good. And did you run into any challenges while building it?”

Kai hesitated. “Not really. It was pretty straightforward.”

The judge nodded, scribbling notes on her clipboard.

“Impressive,” another judge said, his gaze lingering on Kai for a moment longer than necessary. He was a tall man in a gray suit, his face stern.

Kai’s stomach twisted. There was something unsettling about the way the man looked at him.

As the judges moved on to the next project, Kai turned to Mike.

“Did you see that guy?” he whispered.

Mike frowned. “The tall one? Yeah, he looked like he wanted to interrogate you.”

Kai nodded, his chest tightening. “I think he knows something.”

Things went downhill during the demonstration portion of the fair.

Each student was required to show their project to a small group of parents and judges. Kai’s turn came quickly, and a knot of people gathered around his table.

“Alright,” he said, forcing a smile. “This is a demonstration of magnetic propulsion. When I release the cart, the magnets will push it forward.”

He reached out to start the demonstration, but his hand trembled. The spark in his chest flared unexpectedly, and the cart shot down the track faster than it should have, slamming into the end with a loud clunk.

The group murmured, some of the parents leaning in closer.

Kai’s heart raced. He tried to reset the cart, but his nerves were getting the better of him.

“Take a deep breath,” one of the judges said gently.

Kai nodded, but the spark wouldn’t subside. As he tried again, the cart wobbled unnaturally, floating for a split second before dropping back onto the track.

The murmurs grew louder.

“Did it just...float?” someone asked.

“No, it’s part of the project,” Kai said quickly, his voice cracking.

The group exchanged skeptical looks, but no one pressed further.

When the fair ended, Kai packed up his project as quickly as possible, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Mike caught up to him outside the gym. “Dude, what was that? The cart actually floated!”

“I know,” Kai muttered, his face pale. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

“You’ve gotta be more careful,” Mike said, his voice low. “What if someone noticed?”

Kai shook his head, his thoughts racing. “They did notice.”

That night, as Kai lay in bed, he replayed the moment over and over in his mind. The way the cart had floated was unmistakable, even if no one had said it outright.

He pulled out his notebook and wrote:

Day 25: Science fair disaster. The cart floated. People noticed. I need to stop this from happening again.

Kai stared at the page, his chest tight.

He didn’t know how much longer he could keep his powers a secret.

            The morning after the science fair, Kai walked into school with a heavy sense of dread. Whispers followed him down the hall, and a few kids threw him curious glances as he passed.

By the time he reached his locker, Mike was already waiting for him, his expression grim.

“People are talking,” Mike said, leaning in close. “They’re saying weird stuff about your project.”

Kai’s stomach sank. “What kind of stuff?”

Mike glanced around, lowering his voice. “That it wasn’t normal. Someone said the cart floated, and now everyone’s acting like you’re a mad scientist or something.”

Kai groaned, slamming his locker shut. “This is bad.”

The whispers only got worse during class.

As Kai sat through a dull lecture on fractions, he could feel the stares of his classmates boring into him. Even Miss Vance seemed more attentive than usual, her sharp gaze lingering on him every time she passed his desk.

By lunchtime, Kai felt like he was going to explode. He found Mike in their usual spot under the tree and flopped down beside him.

“I can’t take this,” Kai muttered, burying his face in his hands.

Mike patted him on the shoulder. “It’ll blow over. People will forget about it in a week.”

“Yeah, if I don’t accidentally float something else,” Kai said bitterly.

Mike didn’t have an answer for that.

Things took a turn for the worse after lunch.

As Kai headed to his next class, he noticed two men in suits walking down the hallway. They stopped to talk to Miss Vance, who gestured toward the main office.

Kai’s chest tightened as one of the men glanced in his direction.

“Mike,” Kai hissed, grabbing his friend’s arm.

“What?” Mike asked, startled.

“Those guys,” Kai said, nodding toward the men. “They’re not teachers.”

Mike frowned. “They could be from the school district or something.”

“They’re not,” Kai said firmly. “I’ve seen them before.”

By the end of the day, the men had spoken to several students, including a few who had been at Kai’s demonstration.

“Who were they?” Kai overheard one kid asking another.

“I don’t know,” the other replied. “They just asked a bunch of questions about the science fair.”

Kai’s stomach churned as he listened.

That evening, Kai sat at his desk, his notebook open in front of him. He wrote quickly, his hand trembling:

Day 26: Men in suits came to school. They’re asking about the science fair. They know.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the words on the page.

If those men were asking questions, it meant one thing: they were looking for him.

And it was only a matter of time before they found him.

            Dinner that night was tense. Kai sat at the table, pushing peas around his plate while his parents talked about their day. Normally, he’d join in, but tonight, his mind was elsewhere.

“Kai?” his mom said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” he replied, looking up.

“I said, how was school today?” she asked, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

“It was fine,” Kai muttered, avoiding her gaze.

His dad frowned. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately, but something feels off. Are you sure there’s nothing going on?”

Kai shook his head quickly. “No. Everything’s fine.”

His mom exchanged a look with his dad, her concern clear.

After dinner, his parents called him into the living room.

“Sit down, Kai,” his dad said, his tone serious.

Kai hesitated, then sank into the couch, his chest tightening.

“We need to talk,” his mom began, sitting across from him. “Your dad and I are worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” Kai said quickly, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

His dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Son, we’re not mad. But you’ve been acting different. Quiet. Distracted. And then there’s the science fair...”

Kai’s heart raced. “What about it?”

“We’ve been hearing things,” his mom said carefully. “Your project...people are saying it wasn’t normal.”

“It was just magnets,” Kai said, his voice rising slightly.

“Kai,” his dad said gently. “We’re on your side. But if there’s something you’re not telling us, we need to know. We can’t help you if you keep shutting us out.”

Kai’s hands clenched into fists. He wanted to tell them—he really did. But how could he explain something like this?

“It’s nothing,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

His mom sighed, her expression a mix of frustration and worry.

“Alright,” she said. “But if something changes, you come to us. Promise?”

Kai nodded, though the weight in his chest didn’t lift.

Later that night, Kai sat on his bed, staring at the notebook in his lap.

Day 26 (continued): My parents are suspicious. They want me to tell them the truth. I don’t know if I can.

He closed the notebook and leaned back against the headboard, his mind racing.

If his parents found out, would they still look at him the same way?

And what if the men in suits found him first?

            The house was dark and silent, but Kai couldn’t sleep. He sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at the faint outline of his notebook on the desk. The events of the past few days swirled in his mind—the whispers at school, the men in suits, his parents’ questions.

He felt like a rubber band stretched too far, ready to snap.

I can’t keep this up, he thought, his chest tightening. Something has to change.

The next morning, Kai met Mike at their usual spot under the big oak tree. The air was crisp, and the faint smell of freshly cut grass lingered in the breeze.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Kai said, his voice low.

Mike frowned, pausing mid-bite of his granola bar. “Do what?”

“Hide,” Kai said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “It’s too much. My parents are suspicious, those guys at school are asking questions, and Miss Vance is practically breathing down my neck.”

Mike leaned back against the tree, his expression serious. “So, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” Kai admitted. “But I need to figure it out before someone else does.”

Mike nodded, chewing thoughtfully. “Well, whatever you decide, I’ve got your back.”

Kai smiled faintly. “Thanks, Mike.”

By lunchtime, Kai had made up his mind.

He wasn’t ready to tell his parents—at least, not yet. But he needed answers, and there was only one person who might have them.

Miss Vance.

After school, Kai waited outside her classroom, his heart pounding. He hadn’t told Mike what he was planning; it felt too risky.

The hallway was empty, the faint hum of fluorescent lights the only sound. Taking a deep breath, Kai knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Miss Vance called.

Kai pushed the door open and stepped inside. Miss Vance was sitting at her desk, a stack of papers in front of her. She looked up, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly when she saw him.

“Kai,” she said, her tone even. “What can I do for you?”

Kai hesitated, his palms sweating. “I...I need to talk to you.”

Miss Vance leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. “Go on.”

“I know you’ve been watching me,” Kai said, his voice trembling slightly.

Her expression didn’t change. “Watching you?”

“You’ve been paying attention to me—more than anyone else,” Kai said, his chest tightening. “And I think you know why.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Miss Vance smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Sit down, Kai,” she said, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.

Kai sat, his heart racing.

“You’re very perceptive,” Miss Vance said, her tone calm but firm. “Not many students would notice something like that.”

Kai swallowed hard. “Why are you watching me?”

Miss Vance studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Let’s just say I’m interested in...potential.”

“What does that mean?” Kai asked, his voice rising slightly.

“It means,” she said, leaning forward, “that you’re special, Kai. And I want to help you.”

Kai’s stomach churned. “Help me with what?”

Miss Vance’s smile widened slightly. “With whatever it is you’re hiding.”

Kai left the classroom feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under him. Miss Vance hadn’t confirmed anything, but her words left no doubt in his mind.

She knew.

That night, Kai sat on his bed, staring at his notebook. He flipped to a blank page and wrote:

Day 27: I confronted Miss Vance. She knows. She wants to help, but I don’t trust her.

He paused, his pencil hovering over the page. Then he added:

I need to tell my parents. But not yet. Not until I’m ready.

Kai closed the notebook and leaned back against the wall, his chest heavy.

For now, he’d keep his secret. But he knew he couldn’t keep it much longer.

            Kai sat at the kitchen table, staring at the half-eaten sandwich in front of him. His parents were sitting across from him, their eyes filled with a mix of concern and expectation.

His mom had been watching him more closely than usual, her sharp eyes narrowing every time he hesitated or avoided a question. His dad, usually the more relaxed of the two, now looked just as tense.

“Kai,” his mom said softly, breaking the silence. “We’ve been patient, but we can’t keep pretending nothing’s wrong. Whatever’s going on, we need to know.”

His dad nodded. “You’ve been acting different, and now with the science fair...people are talking. If you’re in trouble, we can help. But you need to be honest with us.”

Kai’s heart pounded. This was it—the moment he’d been dreading and preparing for. He couldn’t keep the secret anymore, not with everything closing in around him.

“I...I need to tell you something,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

His mom leaned forward, her face softening. “Go on, honey. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Kai took a deep breath, his hands trembling. “There’s something...different about me. Something I can do.”

His parents exchanged a confused glance.

“What do you mean?” his dad asked.

Kai stood, his legs shaky, and grabbed a fork from the counter. He placed it on the table in front of them, his chest tightening as the familiar spark flared inside him.

“Just...watch,” he said, his voice trembling.

He closed his eyes and focused on the fork. The spark grew stronger, and the fork wobbled, then lifted off the table, hovering a few inches in the air.

His mom gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

His dad leaned back, his eyes wide. “What—how are you doing that?”

Kai let the fork drop, his hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice breaking. “It just...started happening a few weeks ago. I didn’t want to tell you because I was scared.”

For a moment, the room was silent. His parents stared at him, their faces a mix of shock and disbelief.

Finally, his mom spoke. “Kai, this...this isn’t possible. Are you sure it’s not some kind of trick?”

“It’s not a trick!” Kai said, his voice rising. “I’m not making this up. It’s real.”

His dad shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “This is...a lot to take in.”

“I know,” Kai said, his chest tight. “But I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t keep hiding it from you.”

His mom reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. “Kai, we’re not mad. We’re just...worried. This is so much bigger than anything we’ve ever dealt with.”

His dad nodded. “We’ll figure this out together. But you need to tell us everything. When did this start? How does it work?”

Kai hesitated, then told them everything—about the pencil, the plates, the science fair, and the men in suits at school.

By the time he finished, his mom looked pale, and his dad was pacing the kitchen.

“This is serious,” his dad said finally. “If those men are watching you, we need to protect you.”

“How?” Kai asked, his voice shaking.

“We’ll figure it out,” his mom said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “But from now on, you don’t keep anything from us. Understood?”

Kai nodded, his chest tightening with a strange mix of relief and fear.

That night, as Kai lay in bed, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. For the first time in weeks, he wasn’t carrying the secret alone.

But as he stared at the ceiling, another thought crept into his mind.

What if telling them had only made things worse?

            The morning after Kai’s revelation, the house was unusually quiet. His parents hadn’t said much over breakfast, but Kai could tell they were deep in thought. His dad had barely touched his coffee, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a furrowed brow and a distant stare.

As Kai headed upstairs to grab his backpack, he heard his dad’s voice from the kitchen.

“We need to understand this, Lisa. We can’t just sit back and do nothing.”

“I know,” his mom replied, her voice low. “But where do we even start?”

When Kai returned from school that afternoon, he found his dad sitting at the dining table, surrounded by stacks of books and papers. His laptop was open, the screen displaying a webpage filled with dense scientific text.

“Dad?” Kai said, stepping closer.

His dad looked up, his eyes lighting up slightly. “Hey, buddy. How was school?”

“Fine,” Kai said cautiously, his gaze drifting to the cluttered table. “What are you doing?”

His dad hesitated, then gestured to the papers. “Research. If we’re going to figure out what’s happening to you, we need to understand it.”

Kai’s chest tightened. “Do you think you can?”

“I don’t know,” his dad admitted. “But I’m going to try.”

For the next few hours, Kai sat with his dad, watching as he poured over articles and notes. Most of it was way over Kai’s head—technical terms about neural pathways, bioelectric fields, and unexplained phenomena.

“What’s all this?” Kai asked, pointing to a diagram of a brain with glowing lines crisscrossing through it.

“It’s a theory about energy fields in the human body,” his dad explained. “Some people think we generate small electrical signals that could, under the right conditions, interact with the world around us.”

“Like telekinesis?” Kai asked.

His dad nodded slowly. “Maybe. But it’s not exactly proven science.”

Kai frowned. “Then why do you think it’s happening to me?”

His dad sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t know, Kai. But something is happening, and we need to understand it before anyone else does.”

That evening, as they ate dinner, Kai’s mom brought up the men in suits.

“If they’re watching the school,” she said, “we need to be careful. We don’t know who they are or what they want.”

“They’re looking for me,” Kai said quietly.

His mom reached over and squeezed his hand. “We won’t let anything happen to you, Kai. I promise.”

His dad nodded. “We’ll keep researching. There has to be an explanation—and a way to keep you safe.”

Later that night, Kai couldn’t sleep. He lay in bed, staring at the faint glow of the moon through his window.

His dad’s words echoed in his mind: “We need to understand it before anyone else does.”

Kai rolled over, clutching the edge of his quilt. He wasn’t sure if understanding his powers would make things better or worse.

But one thing was certain—he couldn’t face this alone anymore.

            The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as Kai sat at the kitchen table, picking at a bowl of cereal. His mom bustled around the kitchen, her movements sharp and precise. He could tell she was thinking—really thinking—about something.

“Are you okay?” Kai asked, his voice hesitant.

His mom stopped, turning to face him. Her expression was calm, but her eyes betrayed a deep worry.

“I’m fine,” she said, though the edge in her voice said otherwise. She sat down across from him, resting her hands on the table. “Kai, I need you to listen to me.”

Kai set his spoon down, his chest tightening. “What is it?”

“We need to talk about how to keep you safe,” she said, her voice firm. “Your dad is working on figuring out what’s happening to you, but until we know more, we have to assume that those men at your school are dangerous.”

Kai nodded slowly. “What should I do?”

His mom leaned forward, her tone low and serious. “First, you stay out of trouble. Don’t draw attention to yourself, and don’t use your...abilities where anyone can see you.”

“I haven’t been,” Kai said quickly.

She raised an eyebrow. “The science fair says otherwise.”

Kai winced. “That was an accident.”

“I know,” she said, her expression softening slightly. “But accidents can have consequences, Kai. People are already asking questions. If those men find out what you can do, they won’t stop until they get what they want.”

Kai’s stomach twisted. “What do you think they want?”

His mom hesitated, then said, “Control. Power. And if they think you’re the key to something they can use, they won’t care about you—they’ll only care about what you can do.”

The weight of her words settled over him like a heavy blanket. “What if they come here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

His mom’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll handle it. Your dad and I will protect you, no matter what it takes.”

“How?”

She smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Let me worry about that.”

Later that day, while his dad buried himself in research, Kai found his mom in the garage. She was sorting through a box of old tools, her movements quick and efficient.

“What are you doing?” Kai asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Preparing,” she said without looking up.

“For what?”

She pulled out a heavy flashlight and tested its beam. “In case we need to defend ourselves.”

Kai blinked. “With a flashlight?”

She smirked. “You’d be surprised how useful a flashlight can be. But no, not just this.” She gestured to the box, which contained a mix of tools, ropes, and an old baseball bat.

Kai’s throat tightened. “Do you really think it’ll come to that?”

His mom straightened, meeting his gaze. “I hope not. But if it does, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

That night, as Kai lay in bed, he felt a strange sense of both fear and comfort.

His mom was serious—dead serious—about protecting him. But the thought of her needing to defend him from anyone made his chest ache.

He stared at the shadows on the ceiling, his mind racing.

Whatever was coming, he had to be ready.

            The dining room table was covered with papers and maps, a far cry from its usual clean and orderly state. Kai sat between his parents, watching as his dad pointed to a highlighted spot on the map.

“This is it,” his dad said, tapping the paper. “If things get worse, we’ll go here.”

Kai frowned, leaning in to get a better look. The map showed a remote cabin nestled in the middle of a forest, miles away from any major roads.

“A cabin?” he asked.

His dad nodded. “It’s an old family property. No one knows about it except us, and it’s far enough off the grid that we won’t have to worry about being followed.”

Kai’s mom crossed her arms, her expression serious. “It’s a last resort, Kai. We won’t leave unless we absolutely have to. But if we do, we need to be ready.”

Over the next few days, they began to prepare.

His dad made a list of supplies they’d need: food, water, first aid, and anything else that could keep them going for a while. His mom packed an emergency bag with essentials like clothes and important documents.

“Kai,” his mom said one evening as she handed him a backpack. “This is yours. Keep it in your room, and if I tell you to grab it, don’t waste time asking questions. Just go.”

Kai opened the bag, finding a flashlight, a few energy bars, a water bottle, and a small notebook with a pen.

“What’s the notebook for?” he asked.

“Notes, directions, anything you might need to remember,” his mom said.

Kai nodded, his chest tightening.

One evening, as Kai helped his dad sort through tools in the garage, he asked, “Do you really think we’ll need all this?”

His dad paused, setting down a wrench. “I hope not. But it’s better to be prepared and not need it than the other way around.”

Kai nodded, though the thought of leaving everything behind made his stomach churn.

The cabin itself became a topic of constant discussion.

“It’s got a working fireplace and a well for water,” his dad explained. “We’ll bring a generator just in case, but we should be able to manage without electricity if we have to.”

“What about school?” Kai asked, his voice small.

His mom hesitated, then said, “If we go, you’ll have to take a break from school. But staying safe is more important.”

Kai looked down at his hands. “And what about...them? The people looking for me?”

His dad placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s why we’re doing this, Kai. So they can’t find you.”

As the days passed, Kai began to notice little changes around the house.

The garage grew more organized, with supplies neatly stacked and labeled. The car always had a full tank of gas. And his mom kept her phone close, answering every call on the first ring.

It was clear that they were taking the plan seriously, even if they never said it out loud.

One night, as Kai sat in his room, he flipped through the notebook his mom had packed for him.

He decided to start writing down everything he could remember about his powers, just in case they needed to understand them later.

Day 28: Preparing for the safe house. Mom and Dad are serious about this. I don’t want to leave, but I know we might have to.

Kai stared at the page for a long time before adding:

If we leave, I don’t know if we’ll ever come back.

            The playground felt unusually quiet that afternoon. The usual shouts and laughter of kids playing kickball and swinging on monkey bars seemed muted, as if the weight of the past few days had settled over everything.

Kai and Mike sat under their usual tree, the shade providing little relief from the tension in the air.

“So, this is serious?” Mike asked, breaking the silence.

Kai nodded, his chest tight. “Yeah. My parents think we might have to leave. They’ve got a whole plan—emergency bags, a cabin in the woods, everything.”

Mike’s face fell. “A cabin? Dude, that sounds like something out of a spy movie.”

Kai forced a weak smile. “Feels like it too.”

Mike leaned back against the tree, tossing a small rock between his hands. “How long would you be gone?”

“I don’t know,” Kai admitted. “Maybe a few weeks, maybe longer. It depends on what happens.”

Mike frowned, the rock slipping through his fingers and landing on the grass. “So, what? You’re just gonna disappear?”

“I don’t want to,” Kai said quickly. “But if it’s the only way to stay safe, I don’t have a choice.”

Mike was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Safe from who? Those guys in the suits?”

Kai hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. And Miss Vance too. I don’t know who she’s working for, but she knows about me, Mike. She’s watching me.”

Mike let out a low whistle. “Man, this is insane. First the science fair, now this? You’re like a real-life superhero.”

Kai shook his head. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

For a while, they sat in silence, the breeze rustling the leaves above them.

Finally, Mike spoke. “You’re not just gonna leave without saying goodbye, right?”

Kai looked at him, surprised. “Of course not. You’re my best friend.”

Mike grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good. Because if you ghost me, I’m gonna track you down and make you regret it.”

Kai laughed, the sound breaking through the heavy atmosphere. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of recess.

As they stood to head back to class, Mike clapped Kai on the shoulder. “Whatever happens, you’ve got this. You’re stronger than you think, dude.”

Kai nodded, though the knot in his chest didn’t loosen. “Thanks, Mike.”

That night, as Kai sat in his room, he wrote a letter to Mike.

He wasn’t sure when or if he’d have to leave, but he wanted to be prepared.

Mike,
If you’re reading this, it means we had to go. I don’t know where or for how long, but I’ll try to find a way to reach you when it’s safe. Thank you for everything—for being my friend, for helping me through this. I couldn’t have done it without you.
- Kai

He folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope, tucking it into his emergency bag.

As he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Kai couldn’t shake the feeling that this might be his last normal night in a long time.

            The sound of zippers and the rustle of fabric filled Kai’s room as he carefully packed his emergency bag. His mom had given him a list of essentials to include, but it felt more like a goodbye than a preparation.

He stuffed clothes, a flashlight, and a water bottle into the bag before sitting back on his bed, staring at the pile of items. It all felt so impersonal.

He glanced around his room, his eyes landing on the little things that made it his own: the model spaceship he’d built with his dad, the comic books he and Mike had spent hours reading, the framed photo of his family at the beach.

If he had to leave, he didn’t want to forget any of it.

Kai stood and grabbed the photo from his desk, running his thumb over the glass. His mom had insisted on taking the picture even though he and his dad had both been sunburned and covered in sand.

He smiled faintly, slipping the photo into the front pocket of his bag.

Next, he picked up the model spaceship. It was small and a little crooked, but it reminded him of the afternoons he’d spent with his dad, glue and paint everywhere.

He hesitated, then placed it carefully into the bag, wrapping it in a spare shirt for protection.

The last item he packed was the notebook he’d been using to document everything about his powers.

He flipped through the pages one last time, reading over his scattered thoughts and observations.

Day 1: The pencil floated for a second. Only me. Nobody saw.
Day 7: Practiced with small objects. Getting better, but it’s exhausting.
Day 25: Science fair disaster. People noticed.

Kai swallowed hard and closed the notebook, sliding it into the bag.

His mom knocked softly on the door, poking her head inside. “How’s it going?”

“Almost done,” Kai said, zipping up the bag.

She stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the shelves and walls. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Packing like this.”

Kai nodded. “It feels like I’m leaving everything behind.”

His mom sat beside him on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “I know it’s scary, but you’re not leaving everything. You’ve got us, and that’s what matters.”

Kai leaned into her, the weight in his chest easing slightly.

As she stood to leave, she said, “Don’t forget to pack something that makes you smile. You’ll need it.”

Kai nodded, glancing around the room one last time.

His eyes landed on a small keychain hanging from his desk lamp. It was shaped like a tiny rocket ship, a gift from Mike on his birthday last year.

He smiled and slipped it into the bag’s front pocket.

That night, as Kai lay in bed, he felt a strange mix of sadness and determination. If they had to leave, he’d carry these pieces of home with him.

They were more than just objects—they were memories.

And no matter what happened, those memories were his to keep.

            The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that made every creak of the floorboards and whisper of the wind sound louder than it should. Kai lay in bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, his body tense and alert.

He couldn’t sleep. Not with the lingering feeling that someone was out there, watching.

Around midnight, he gave up on trying to rest. He climbed out of bed and padded to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to peek out. The street below was dark and empty, the faint glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement.

But then he saw it.

The black car was back, parked a few houses down. Its headlights were off, but he could see the faint glow of a phone screen in the driver’s seat.

Kai’s stomach twisted.

He turned away from the window, his mind racing. He knew he should tell his parents, but part of him didn’t want to wake them. They had enough to worry about already.

Instead, he grabbed the flashlight his mom had packed for him and crept out of his room, moving silently down the hallway.

In the kitchen, he found his mom sitting at the table, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked without looking up.

Kai hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. You either?”

She shook her head, taking a sip of tea. “Too much on my mind.”

Kai sat down across from her, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “The car’s back. The one that was watching me.”

His mom’s grip tightened on the mug. “Are you sure?”

Kai nodded. “It’s parked a few houses down. Someone’s inside.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then his mom stood, her expression sharp and determined. “Stay here,” she said, grabbing her phone from the counter.

“What are you going to do?” Kai asked, his voice rising.

“Just stay here,” she repeated, her tone firm.

Kai watched as she walked to the front door, her phone pressed to her ear. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but her posture was tense, her movements deliberate.

Minutes later, she returned, her face unreadable.

“I called the police,” she said, sitting back down at the table. “They’re sending someone to check it out.”

Kai’s chest tightened. “What if they find out it’s about me?”

His mom reached across the table, placing a hand on his. “We’ll handle it, Kai. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it.”

They sat together in the kitchen, the clock ticking loudly in the silence. Every time headlights flashed outside, Kai tensed, his heart pounding.

Finally, the sound of a car pulling away broke the quiet.

His mom stood and peered through the curtains. “They’re gone,” she said softly.

Kai let out a shaky breath. “Do you think they’ll come back?”

His mom hesitated, then said, “Maybe. But we’ll be ready.”

That night, Kai lay awake, listening to the faint creaks of the house and the occasional rustle of wind outside.

He wasn’t sure if the black car would return, but one thing was clear—whoever was watching him wasn’t going to give up easily.

            Kai woke up feeling strange, like his whole body was buzzing with energy. It wasn’t the usual spark he felt in his chest when he used his powers—this was stronger, more intense.

He sat up in bed, the sensation coursing through him. His fingers tingled, and the air around him seemed to hum faintly.

“What’s happening?” he whispered, flexing his hands.

The feeling didn’t go away as he got ready for school. When he reached for the toothpaste, the tube wobbled on the counter before flying into his hand. His heart skipped a beat.

Later, as he grabbed his backpack, a pen rolled off his desk and hovered in the air for a moment before clattering to the floor.

Kai stared at it, his chest tightening.

This is new.

By the time he left for school, the buzzing had dulled to a faint hum, but it didn’t disappear completely.

At lunch, he found Mike under their usual tree.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Mike said, raising an eyebrow.

“Something’s happening,” Kai said, sitting down beside him. “I don’t know what it is, but my powers feel...different.”

“Different how?”

“Stronger,” Kai said. “Things are moving even when I’m not trying to make them. It’s like I can’t turn it off.”

Mike frowned, his usual humor replaced with concern. “That’s not good. What if someone notices?”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Kai admitted. “If I can’t control this, it’s only a matter of time before I slip up.”

The first slip happened during gym class.

The students were playing dodgeball, the sound of bouncing balls and shouted warnings filling the air. Kai tried to stay out of the action, sticking to the back of the court.

But when a ball came flying toward him, something inside him reacted instinctively.

The spark flared, and the ball stopped midair, hovering for a split second before dropping to the ground.

The gym went silent.

“Did you see that?” one of the kids asked, his voice filled with awe.

“No way,” another said. “It just stopped by itself.”

Kai’s heart pounded as he forced a laugh. “It must’ve hit something.”

The chatter resumed, but Kai could feel the stares following him for the rest of the game.

That night, Kai sat in his room, trying to make sense of what was happening.

He placed a small metal washer on his desk, staring at it intently. The spark flared in his chest almost immediately, and the washer shot into the air, spinning so fast it was a blur.

“Stop,” Kai said, his voice trembling.

The washer froze midair, then dropped to the desk with a loud clink.

Kai leaned back in his chair, his chest heaving.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t just a fluke. His powers were changing—growing stronger.

Kai pulled out his notebook and began to write.

Day 29: My powers are getting stronger. I can’t control them as easily as I used to. Things move even when I don’t want them to.

He paused, staring at the words. Then he added:

I’m scared.

            The house was quiet as the phone rang, its sharp tone cutting through the stillness. Kai was in his room, trying to focus on his homework, when he heard his mom answer it in the kitchen.

“Hello?” her voice echoed faintly down the hall.

Kai didn’t pay much attention at first, scribbling half-heartedly at a math problem. But then he heard the change in her tone—tense and clipped, the way she spoke when she was worried.

“What do you mean he’s in danger?”

Kai froze, his pencil hovering over the page.

He crept to the doorway, straining to hear.

“Yes,” his mom said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I understand. But who are you? How do you know this?”

A pause. Then: “No, I can’t discuss this over the phone. If what you’re saying is true, we need to act fast.”

Kai’s chest tightened. He stepped into the hallway just as his mom hung up the phone, her shoulders tense.

“Mom?” he said softly.

She turned, startled. “Kai, I didn’t hear you come out.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, his heart pounding.

Her face softened, but the worry in her eyes was unmistakable. “Nothing you need to worry about, honey. Go back to your homework.”

“Mom, I heard you,” Kai said, his voice rising slightly. “You said I was in danger. Who was that?”

She hesitated, then sighed. “Someone who claims to know about...your situation. They wouldn’t give me their name, but they said there’s a group looking for you. They’re getting closer.”

Kai’s stomach dropped. “What kind of group?”

“They didn’t say,” she admitted, her tone grim. “But they knew things, Kai. Things they shouldn’t.”

His dad came into the kitchen, looking between them with a frown. “What’s going on?”

Kai’s mom explained the phone call quickly, her words clipped and urgent.

His dad’s expression darkened. “Do you think it’s legitimate?”

“I don’t know,” his mom said. “But we can’t take any chances.”

His dad nodded, his jaw tight. “We need to move up the plan.”

That night, Kai’s parents sat him down in the living room.

“We’ve been trying to give you time to adjust,” his dad said, his voice calm but firm. “But if these people are closing in, we can’t wait any longer.”

“What does that mean?” Kai asked, his chest tightening.

“It means we’re leaving,” his mom said. “Tomorrow.”

Kai’s heart sank. He had known this moment was coming, but now that it was here, it felt too sudden, too real.

“Can I say goodbye to Mike?” he asked quietly.

His parents exchanged a glance. “We’ll see if there’s time,” his mom said. “But for now, focus on packing.”

Kai spent the rest of the evening in his room, staring at the half-packed bag by his bed. The weight of the decision pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe.

He pulled out his notebook and flipped to a blank page.

Day 30: Someone called Mom. They said I’m in danger. We’re leaving tomorrow.

He hesitated, then added:

I don’t know what’s waiting for us out there, but I hope it’s better than this.

            The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, but the house felt heavy with tension. Kai sat at the kitchen table, staring at the emergency bag he’d packed the night before. His parents were bustling around the house, their movements quick and purposeful.

His dad entered the kitchen, a map and a stack of papers in his hands. “Alright,” he said, setting them down on the table. “We need to review the plan, just in case.”

Kai nodded, his stomach twisting into knots.

The three of them gathered in the living room, the map spread out on the coffee table. His dad pointed to a spot deep in the forest.

“This is the cabin,” he said. “If we have to leave, this is where we’ll go. It’s remote, off the grid, and no one knows about it except us.”

His mom chimed in, her voice calm but firm. “We’ll take the main roads as far as we can, but if we notice anyone following us, we’ll switch to the back routes here and here.” She traced a path with her finger.

Kai studied the map, his chest tight. “What if they find us?”

His dad’s jaw tightened. “That’s why we’re reviewing this now. We need to be ready for anything.”

They spent the next hour going over every detail of the plan.

His mom showed him how to use the small first aid kit in his bag, walking him through the basics of treating cuts and scrapes. “It’s unlikely we’ll need it,” she said, “but it’s better to be prepared.”

His dad demonstrated how to use the emergency flashlight and taught him how to read the compass attached to the handle.

“Always keep this with you,” his dad said. “If we get separated, it’ll help you find your way.”

Kai nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he held the compass.

By lunchtime, the preparations were complete. The house was tidier than it had been in weeks, with supplies neatly packed and ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Kai sat on the couch, his head resting in his hands. “This feels like overkill,” he said quietly.

His mom sat down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know it feels like a lot, but we can’t afford to take chances. Your safety is the most important thing.”

Kai looked up at her, his chest tightening. “But what if this is all for nothing? What if we don’t even have to leave?”

“Then we’ll count ourselves lucky,” his dad said, walking into the room. “But until we know for sure, we need to be ready.”

That evening, Kai stood at his bedroom window, watching the quiet street below. The black car hadn’t returned, but the uneasy feeling in his chest hadn’t gone away.

He turned back to his desk and opened his notebook.

Day 31: We’re reviewing the plan. Everything’s packed, and we’re ready to go if we have to.

He hesitated, then added:

I don’t want to leave. But I don’t think we have a choice.

As he climbed into bed that night, his mom peeked into his room.

“Goodnight, Kai,” she said softly.

“Goodnight, Mom,” he replied.

She lingered in the doorway for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she closed the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

            The table was set with care, a rare moment of normalcy amid the chaos of the past few days. Kai’s mom had cooked his favorite meal—roast chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans. The rich aroma filled the kitchen, but Kai barely noticed.

He sat at the table, his emergency bag leaning against his chair, a constant reminder that this might be their last meal at home.

“This feels weird,” Kai said softly, poking at his food.

His mom looked up, her expression strained but calm. “I know, honey. But we need to stay strong—for each other.”

His dad nodded, though his jaw was tight. “This isn’t goodbye, Kai. It’s just a precaution.”

Kai swallowed hard, forcing down a bite of mashed potatoes. “Do you really think we’ll have to leave?”

His mom hesitated, then said, “I hope not. But we need to be ready.”

The meal was mostly quiet, the occasional clink of silverware the only sound. Kai kept glancing out the window, half-expecting to see the black car parked nearby again.

“What’s the first thing we’ll do at the cabin?” Kai asked, trying to break the tension.

His dad smiled faintly. “Start a fire in the fireplace. It’s going to be cold out there.”

“And I’ll make hot chocolate,” his mom added, her voice softer now.

Kai managed a small smile. “That sounds nice.”

As they cleared the table, the silence was broken by a faint noise outside—a low, rhythmic hum that sent a shiver down Kai’s spine.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered, his eyes darting to the window.

His mom froze, her hands gripping the dish towel. “Stay here,” she said, her voice low but firm.

Kai watched as his dad grabbed a flashlight and moved toward the front door, his movements deliberate.

The hum grew louder, and Kai’s chest tightened. He couldn’t sit still. Ignoring his mom’s instructions, he crept toward the window, peering through the curtains.

What he saw made his stomach drop.

Two figures stood near the edge of the yard, partially obscured by the shadows. They were dressed in dark suits, their faces hidden by the dim light.

“Mom,” Kai whispered, stepping back from the window. “They’re here.”

His mom hurried over, her face pale. She glanced outside, then turned to Kai, her voice sharp. “Get your bag and go to your room. Now.”

Kai grabbed his bag and ran upstairs, his heart pounding. He crouched by the window in his room, watching as his dad stepped onto the porch, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the darkness.

The figures didn’t move.

“Can I help you?” his dad called, his voice steady.

The taller of the two figures stepped forward, his voice calm but chilling. “We’re here to talk about your son.”

Kai’s breath caught in his throat.

            Kai crouched by his window, his heart hammering in his chest as he watched the scene unfold below. His dad stood on the porch, the flashlight trembling slightly in his hand. The two men in suits stood just outside the circle of light, their presence unnervingly calm.

“You have no right to be here,” his dad said, his voice firm but tense. “This is private property.”

“We’re not here to cause trouble,” the taller man replied, his voice smooth and measured. “We simply need to speak with your son.”

Kai’s stomach twisted.

His mom burst into his room, her face pale but determined. “Kai, we’re leaving. Now.”

“What about Dad?” Kai asked, his voice shaking.

“He’ll stall them,” she said, grabbing his emergency bag and thrusting it into his hands. “But we don’t have much time.”

Kai followed her out of the room, his legs trembling. She led him down the back staircase, her movements quick and silent.

“Where are we going?” Kai whispered.

“To the car,” she said. “We’ll take the back roads.”

They reached the garage just as the voices outside grew louder.

“We have no intention of hurting him,” the man said, his tone still calm but insistent. “We only want to help.”

“I don’t care what you want,” Kai’s dad shot back. “You’re not coming anywhere near my son.”

Kai’s mom paused by the garage door, her hand gripping the handle. She looked at Kai, her eyes fierce. “Stay close to me. Don’t stop for anything.”

Kai nodded, clutching his bag tightly.

The garage door creaked as it opened, and Kai winced at the sound. His mom ushered him into the car, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the two men. One of them turned, his gaze locking onto the car.

“They’re leaving,” the man said, his calm demeanor cracking slightly.

“Get inside,” the taller man ordered.

Kai’s mom floored the accelerator, the car lurching forward as they sped down the driveway. In the rearview mirror, Kai saw the black car parked near the curb roar to life, its headlights flashing on.

“They’re following us,” Kai said, his voice shaking.

“Hold on,” his mom said, gripping the wheel tightly.

The car raced through the quiet streets, the dark sedan following close behind. Kai’s mom took sharp turns and narrow side streets, trying to lose them.

“Where’s Dad?” Kai asked, his voice breaking.

“He’ll meet us at the cabin,” she said, her eyes fixed on the road. “He knows the plan.”

Kai nodded, though fear clawed at his chest.

As they approached the edge of town, the black car began to close the distance. Its headlights loomed in the rearview mirror, blinding and relentless.

“Mom,” Kai said, panic rising in his voice.

“I see them,” she said, her voice calm but tense.

Suddenly, the car swerved, cutting into a narrow dirt path that wound through the trees. The sedan hesitated for a moment, then followed, its tires kicking up clouds of dust.

The road grew rough and uneven, the car bouncing violently as it sped through the forest. Kai clung to his seat, his heart racing.

“They’re still behind us,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

His mom didn’t respond, her focus entirely on navigating the treacherous path.

Up ahead, the road split into two narrow trails. Without hesitation, she veered left, the tires skidding slightly on the loose dirt.

The black car hesitated at the fork, then turned right, disappearing into the darkness.

Kai let out a shaky breath, his chest heaving. “Did we lose them?”

“I think so,” his mom said, slowing the car to a crawl. She glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes scanning the empty road behind them.

For a moment, the only sound was the hum of the engine and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

Then she pulled over to the side of the road, turning off the engine.

“Are we stopping?” Kai asked, his voice still trembling.

“Just for a moment,” she said. “We need to make sure they’re really gone.”

They sat in silence, the darkness pressing in around them. Kai’s mom kept one hand on the wheel, her other resting on the door handle, ready to move at a moment’s notice.

Minutes passed, but there was no sign of the black car.

“I think we’re safe,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kai slumped back in his seat, the tension in his body slowly easing.

But deep down, he knew this was only the beginning.

            The quiet of the forest was broken by the sound of tires skidding on gravel. Kai and his mom were back on the road, their car weaving through the dense trees as the black sedan reappeared in the distance.

“They found us again,” Kai said, his voice tight with fear.

His mom’s hands gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white. “I see them. Hold on.”

The car surged forward, the narrow dirt path barely wide enough for their vehicle. Branches scraped against the windows, and the tires kicked up clouds of dust and leaves.

The black car was gaining on them, its headlights cutting through the darkness like twin beams of warning.

Kai glanced back, his heart pounding. “They’re getting closer!”

His mom’s jaw tightened. “I know. Just stay calm.”

She took a sharp turn, the car skidding dangerously close to the edge of the path. The forest seemed to close in around them, the trees casting long shadows that flickered across the windshield.

Ahead, the dirt road forked into two paths. Without hesitation, Kai’s mom veered left, the tires bouncing over a jagged patch of rocks.

The black car hesitated for a moment at the fork before following, its engine roaring as it picked up speed.

“They’re not giving up,” Kai muttered, clutching his bag tightly.

“They won’t,” his mom said, her voice grim. “But we’re not stopping.”

The path grew narrower, and the forest seemed denser here. The car’s headlights illuminated the rough terrain ahead, but the black car stayed close behind, its presence an ominous shadow in the rearview mirror.

Suddenly, the road dipped sharply, and the car lurched forward, the seatbelt digging into Kai’s chest.

“Are you okay?” his mom asked, glancing at him briefly.

“Yeah,” Kai said, though his voice shook.

The sound of the pursuing car grew louder, the low rumble of its engine reverberating through the trees.

Kai’s mom took another sharp turn, the tires sliding on loose gravel. For a moment, the black car disappeared from view, hidden by the thick trees and winding path.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The sedan reappeared, its headlights cutting through the darkness like a predator stalking its prey.

Kai’s chest tightened. “They’re not stopping, are they?”

“No,” his mom said, her voice steely. “But neither are we.”

The car sped on, the path twisting and turning like a labyrinth. Every second felt like an eternity, the tension in the air thick and suffocating.

As the road straightened briefly, the black car surged forward, closing the distance between them. Kai’s mom’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, her jaw set.

“Hold on,” she said, her voice calm but firm.

Kai braced himself as she veered sharply onto an even narrower trail, the car bouncing violently over the uneven ground.

For a moment, the forest swallowed them, the thick trees blocking out even the faint glow of the moon. The black car’s headlights vanished, its engine fading into the distance.

Kai let out a shaky breath. “Did we lose them?”

His mom didn’t answer right away, her eyes scanning the road ahead. “Maybe. But we can’t slow down yet.”

They pressed on, the car cutting through the dense forest like a lifeline to safety.

            The car skidded to a stop in front of the cabin, its tires crunching over the gravel path. The wooden structure stood in the middle of the dense forest, a single light glowing faintly through the window.

Kai and his mom rushed out of the car, their bags slung over their shoulders. His dad appeared at the door, his face etched with relief and urgency.

“Are you okay?” his dad asked, stepping forward.

“They’re close,” Kai’s mom said, her voice steady despite the tension in her eyes. “We don’t have much time.”

Inside the cabin, the air was cold and still. The furniture was sparse but sturdy—a table, a few chairs, and a stone fireplace in the corner. Kai’s dad had already set up supplies: food, blankets, and a few tools stacked neatly on the counter.

Kai dropped his bag near the door, his heart still racing. “How did they find us?”

“They must have tracked the car,” his mom said, peeking through the curtains. Her hands were trembling, but her voice remained calm. “We’ll figure that out later. Right now, we need a plan.”

The sound of tires on gravel made Kai’s stomach drop. His mom turned to his dad, her expression grim.

“They’re here.”

His dad grabbed Kai’s arm, pulling him toward the back of the cabin. “There’s a trail that leads deeper into the forest. We can use it to get away.”

“We won’t make it far if they see us leave,” his mom said, her voice low.

Kai’s dad hesitated. “What are you saying?”

She looked at them, her jaw set. “I’ll distract them. You two go.”

“No!” Kai said, his chest tightening. “We can’t leave you.”

His mom knelt in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes were fierce but full of love. “Kai, listen to me. This is the only way. They’re after you. If we all stay, they’ll catch us. But if I keep them busy, you and your dad can escape.”

Tears burned in Kai’s eyes. “What if they hurt you?”

She smiled faintly, brushing a hand through his hair. “I’ll be fine, honey. I’ve got a plan.”

Kai’s dad stepped forward, his voice tight. “Lisa, this isn’t the answer.”

“It’s the only answer,” she said firmly. “We don’t have time to argue.”

The sound of car doors slamming outside made them all flinch.

“Go,” she said, standing and grabbing a flashlight from the counter. “Take the trail and don’t look back.”

Kai’s dad hesitated, his fists clenched, but he nodded. “We’ll come back for you,” he said, his voice breaking.

She smiled, her eyes softening. “I know.”

Kai followed his dad out the back door, his heart heavy and his vision blurred with tears.

“Come on,” his dad whispered, leading him toward the narrow trail that disappeared into the trees.

As they moved deeper into the forest, the sound of his mom’s voice carried through the night.

“Hey!” she shouted, her tone defiant. “Looking for someone?”

Kai stopped, his chest heaving. He wanted to run back, to help her, but his dad grabbed his arm.

“We have to keep moving,” his dad said, his voice trembling.

“But—”

“She’s giving us a chance,” his dad said. “Don’t waste it.”

The sound of shouting and footsteps faded as they moved further into the forest.

Kai stumbled over roots and rocks, his tears mixing with the cold air that stung his face.

In the distance, a faint light flickered through the trees—the flashlight his mom had taken. It disappeared a moment later, swallowed by the darkness.

Kai and his dad finally stopped when they reached a small clearing, their breaths visible in the cold air.

His dad knelt in front of him, his hands gripping Kai’s shoulders. “We’ll find her,” he said, his voice shaking. “But right now, we have to stay safe. She wouldn’t want us to throw this chance away.”

Kai nodded, though his chest felt like it was breaking.

As they sat in the clearing, the sounds of the forest surrounded them—distant rustling leaves, the occasional snap of a branch. But the voices and footsteps were gone.

Kai stared at the darkness, his mind racing.

Please be okay, Mom.

            The forest seemed alive in the darkness. Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs sent Kai’s heart racing as he and his dad made their way deeper into the woods. The flashlight’s beam cut through the gloom, illuminating the narrow trail ahead.

“Are we far enough?” Kai whispered, his voice trembling.

His dad shook his head, his jaw tight. “Not yet. We need to put as much distance as we can between us and the cabin.”

Kai tightened his grip on his bag, his mind filled with images of his mom facing the men alone.

They walked in silence for what felt like hours, the forest growing denser with each step. The trail eventually gave way to uneven terrain, forcing them to climb over rocks and weave through thick underbrush.

Finally, his dad stopped, shining the flashlight around a small clearing. “This should work,” he said, his voice low.

The clearing was surrounded by tall trees, their branches forming a canopy that blocked out the moonlight. In one corner, a large boulder jutted out of the ground, offering a small amount of cover.

Kai dropped his bag and sat on the ground, his legs trembling. “What now?”

His dad knelt beside him, his face lined with exhaustion. “We stay here for a while. Wait until it’s safe to move again.”

Kai glanced around, the shadows between the trees playing tricks on his eyes. “What if they find us?”

“They won’t,” his dad said firmly. “Not if we’re careful.”

Kai wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t argue.

The hours dragged on, the cold seeping into Kai’s bones. He huddled under a blanket his dad had packed, his eyes darting between the trees. Every sound seemed louder in the silence—the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant snap of a branch.

“Try to get some rest,” his dad said, sitting down beside him.

“I can’t,” Kai whispered. “Not with Mom out there.”

His dad’s face tightened, but he placed a hand on Kai’s shoulder. “She’s strong, Kai. She’ll find a way back to us.”

Kai nodded, though the knot in his chest didn’t loosen.

As the night wore on, Kai’s exhaustion finally caught up with him. He drifted into a fitful sleep, his dreams filled with shadowy figures and the sound of his mom’s voice calling out to him.

When he woke, the first light of dawn was filtering through the trees. His dad was sitting a few feet away, his back against the boulder, staring out into the forest.

“Did you sleep?” Kai asked, his voice hoarse.

His dad shook his head. “I couldn’t.”

Kai sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. “What do we do now?”

His dad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We wait. If she’s safe, she’ll find us.”

The morning passed slowly, the tension between them thick and unspoken. Kai tried to distract himself by flipping through his notebook, but the words blurred on the page.

“What if she doesn’t come back?” he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

His dad didn’t answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady but strained. “She will.”

Kai wanted to believe him, but the fear gnawed at him, relentless and unyielding.

As the sun climbed higher, his dad stood and began unpacking some of the supplies.

“We’ll need to eat soon,” he said, pulling out a small bag of trail mix and a water bottle.

Kai nodded, though his appetite was nonexistent.

His dad handed him a portion of the trail mix, then sat down beside him. “We’ll get through this, Kai,” he said softly. “One step at a time.”

Kai stared at the food in his hands, his thoughts drifting back to the cabin and his mom’s defiant voice echoing in the night.

            The late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the forest floor. Kai and his dad had spent the day quietly watching the forest, listening for any signs of pursuit. The stillness was both a comfort and a curse—every creak of a branch or rustle of leaves set Kai on edge.

But the quiet didn’t last.

The faint hum of a helicopter reached them, distant but unmistakable.

Kai froze, his heart racing. “Do you hear that?”

His dad stood, his eyes scanning the sky through the thick canopy of trees. “Stay low,” he said quickly, his voice tense.

The hum grew louder, and soon the distinct thwup-thwup-thwup of rotor blades filled the air. A shadow passed over the clearing as the helicopter appeared overhead, its sleek black body glinting in the sunlight.

Kai’s stomach dropped. “Do you think they can see us?”

His dad’s jaw tightened. “It depends. If they’re using thermal imaging, we’re in trouble.”

“What do we do?” Kai whispered, his voice trembling.

“Follow me,” his dad said, grabbing Kai’s arm and pulling him toward the denser part of the forest.

The underbrush thickened as they ran, branches scratching at their arms and faces. The sound of the helicopter grew louder, its shadow darting between the trees as it circled overhead.

“They’re scanning the area,” Kai’s dad said, his voice strained. “We need to find cover—something that’ll block the heat signature.”

Kai stumbled over a root, his bag jostling against his back. “Like what?”

“Water,” his dad said. “Or thick stone. Anything that’ll break the scan.”

They pushed deeper into the forest, the helicopter following relentlessly. Kai’s chest burned as he struggled to keep up, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

“There!” his dad said suddenly, pointing to a rocky outcrop ahead.

The formation jutted out of the ground, its surface covered in moss and lichen. A small crevice near the base created a narrow opening, just big enough for them to squeeze through.

“Get inside,” his dad ordered, kneeling to help Kai crawl into the opening.

Kai wriggled through the gap, the cool stone pressing against his back. His dad followed, pulling their bags in after them.

Inside, the air was damp and musty. The crevice widened into a small hollow, barely big enough for the two of them to sit side by side.

The sound of the helicopter was muffled but still ominously close.

“Will this work?” Kai whispered.

His dad nodded, his eyes fixed on the narrow slit of light above them. “It should. The rock will block most of the heat, and the moss will help disguise us.”

Kai hugged his knees to his chest, his heart pounding as the shadow of the helicopter passed over them again and again.

Minutes felt like hours as they waited in silence. The sound of the helicopter eventually began to fade, but neither of them moved.

Finally, his dad let out a shaky breath. “I think they’re moving on.”

Kai glanced at him, his chest tight. “What if they come back?”

“They might,” his dad admitted. “But for now, we stay put. Let them think they lost us.”

As the forest grew quiet again, Kai leaned back against the cool stone, his exhaustion catching up with him. The tension in his body slowly eased, but his mind raced with questions.

How long could they keep running?

And how far were these people willing to go to find him?

            The forest was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that made every breath and rustle of leaves seem louder than it should. Kai and his dad had been moving cautiously through the dense underbrush, keeping low and sticking to the shadows.

But the silence was broken by the faint crunch of footsteps—many footsteps—echoing in the distance.

“They’re coming,” Kai whispered, his voice tight with fear.

His dad’s face was grim, his eyes scanning their surroundings. “We don’t have much time.”

Kai clutched his bag, his heart pounding. “What do we do?”

His dad crouched beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me, Kai. You’re going to keep moving, okay? Follow the trail until you reach the ridge. There’s a cave system up there—it’ll be harder for them to track you.”

“What about you?” Kai asked, panic rising in his voice.

His dad’s jaw tightened. “I’ll stay here and buy you some time.”

“No!” Kai said, his chest tightening. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Kai,” his dad said firmly, gripping his shoulders. “This isn’t up for discussion. They’re not after me—they’re after you. If I can slow them down, it gives you a chance to get away.”

The footsteps grew louder, accompanied by muffled voices and the occasional crackle of a radio.

“They’re close,” his dad said, glancing over his shoulder. He stood, his expression resolute. “Go. Now.”

Tears blurred Kai’s vision as he shook his head. “I can’t—”

“You can,” his dad said, cutting him off. “You have to. For your mom, for me. We’ve come too far for you to give up now.”

Kai swallowed hard, his throat burning. “What if something happens to you?”

His dad smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Then you make it worth it.”

Before Kai could say anything else, his dad turned and stepped out into the clearing, his movements deliberate.

Kai hesitated, his legs feeling like lead. But the sound of approaching voices snapped him into action. He turned and began running, tears streaming down his face as he followed the narrow trail through the trees.

Behind him, he heard his dad’s voice, loud and commanding.

“Hey!”

The footsteps stopped, followed by a tense silence.

“Who are you?” his dad demanded. “What do you want?”

A calm, measured voice replied, one Kai recognized from the cabin. “We’re here for your son. Hand him over, and no one gets hurt.”

“I don’t think so,” his dad said, his tone defiant.

Kai slowed for a moment, his breath catching as he listened.

“Don’t do this,” the man said, his voice sharper now. “We have no quarrel with you. But if you interfere, we won’t hesitate.”

“Go ahead and try,” his dad shot back.

The sound of a scuffle broke out—shouts, the crack of branches, heavy footsteps.

Kai clenched his fists, his body trembling as he forced himself to keep moving. His dad’s words echoed in his mind: “Make it worth it.”

The trail grew steeper, the trees thinning as the ridge came into view. Kai’s legs burned, his lungs heaving with each breath, but he didn’t stop.

Behind him, the sounds of the confrontation faded, swallowed by the dense forest.

When he finally reached the ridge, he dropped to his knees, gasping for air.

He turned to look back, his heart aching with every beat.

“Please be okay, Dad,” he whispered.

As the forest fell silent again, Kai wiped his eyes and stood.

He wasn’t sure what waited for him ahead, but he knew one thing: his dad had given him a chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it.

            The forest was closing in around Kai. His breath came in short gasps, his legs trembling as he stumbled up the rocky trail. The weight of his father’s sacrifice pressed on his chest like a boulder, suffocating him.

He stopped near a cluster of trees, leaning against one to steady himself. His mind raced, each thought louder than the last. What if they caught him? What if he’s hurt? What if I’m next?

The spark in his chest flared—hotter, sharper than it had ever been before.

“No, no, not now,” Kai whispered, gripping the bark of the tree.

The spark exploded, sending a wave of energy outward. The ground trembled beneath his feet, the branches around him shaking violently.

A rock nearby lifted into the air, spinning erratically before shattering into pieces. The air around him crackled, leaves swirling as if caught in an invisible storm.

“Stop!” Kai shouted, clutching his chest. “I can’t—stop!”

But the energy wouldn’t listen.

A nearby tree creaked and groaned before splintering, its trunk cracking under the force of the unseen power. The chaos only grew, the forest erupting with noise and movement.

Far below, a group of men in black suits paused, their heads snapping toward the disturbance.

“There,” one of them said, pointing toward the ridge. “He’s up there.”

They moved quickly, their boots crunching against the forest floor as they ascended the trail.

Kai collapsed to his knees, his body trembling as the energy began to subside. His vision blurred, the edges of the world darkening.

He barely registered the sound of footsteps approaching until a familiar voice called out.

“Kai!”

He looked up, his heart lurching. His father stumbled toward him, his face pale and his shirt stained with blood.

“Dad!” Kai scrambled to his feet, rushing to his side. “You’re hurt!”

His dad smiled faintly, his hand gripping Kai’s shoulder. “I’m okay,” he said, though his voice was weak. “I had to find you.”

Kai’s chest tightened, tears streaming down his face. “I thought— I thought you didn’t make it.”

“I told you,” his dad said softly, his eyes filled with pain but also determination. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The moment was shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps and low voices.

Kai turned, his stomach dropping. The men had found them, their dark silhouettes emerging from the trees.

They moved quickly, surrounding the clearing with practiced precision. Each one held a weapon, their faces cold and unyielding.

“Kai,” his dad said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Listen to me. Whatever happens, don’t let them take you.”

Kai shook his head, his chest heaving. “Dad, I can’t—”

“You can,” his dad said, gripping his shoulder tightly. “You’re stronger than you think. Trust yourself.”

One of the men stepped forward, his voice calm but commanding.

“Kai Paradox,” he said, his gaze locking onto Kai. “You need to come with us. We won’t hurt you if you cooperate.”

Kai’s fists clenched, the spark flaring again in his chest. The ground beneath him trembled, a faint glow radiating from his hands.

“Stay back!” he shouted, his voice trembling but strong.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Kai’s dad stepped in front of him, his stance unsteady but defiant.

“You’re not taking him,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet resolve.

The man tilted his head, his expression almost pitying. “You’re injured. Don’t make this worse for yourself.”

Kai’s dad didn’t move.

The tension in the air was suffocating, the silence heavy with the promise of violence.

Kai’s chest burned, the spark threatening to consume him again. He looked at his dad, his vision blurring with tears.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered.

“Yes, you can,” his dad said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. “You’re stronger than you know.”

            The clearing was tense, the air heavy with an unspoken standoff. Kai stood behind his father, the spark still burning faintly in his chest. The men in suits formed a perimeter, their postures rigid and their eyes trained on him.

The leader, the tall man who had spoken earlier, stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of calm.

“Let’s all take a moment,” he said, his voice smooth and calculated. “We don’t want this to escalate.”

Kai’s dad didn’t move, his body a protective shield between Kai and the agents. “You’ve already escalated it by coming after my son,” he said coldly.

The man smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re not here to hurt anyone. We’re here to help.”

Kai’s dad scoffed. “By chasing us through the woods and surrounding us like prey? That’s your idea of help?”

The man tilted his head. “Your son is special. He has abilities that can change the world. Don’t you want to give him the chance to understand his potential?”

Kai’s chest tightened. He didn’t trust the man’s calm demeanor, his carefully chosen words.

“My son’s potential isn’t yours to exploit,” his dad said, his voice steady but filled with anger.

“We’re not exploiting him,” the man said, his tone placating. “We want to protect him. There are people out there who would misuse his abilities, who would hurt him to get what they want. We can prevent that.”

Kai’s dad shook his head. “By taking him away? Locking him up in some lab to run tests on him? That’s not protection.”

The man’s expression hardened slightly. “We’re offering him safety, a chance to control his powers. But if you continue to resist, you’ll only make things harder for him.”

Kai’s dad squared his shoulders, his voice rising. “Harder? Do you think chasing us, cornering us like animals, is making anything easier? If you really cared about him, you’d leave us alone.”

The man let out a slow breath, his patience clearly wearing thin. “We understand your fear, Mr. Paradox. You’re a father trying to protect his son. But the longer you resist, the more dangerous this situation becomes—for everyone.”

Kai stepped forward, his fists clenched. “Stop talking like you care about me,” he said, his voice trembling but strong. “If you really wanted to help, you wouldn’t be doing this.”

The man turned his gaze to Kai, his expression softening slightly. “Kai, I know this is overwhelming. But we can teach you to control your abilities, to harness them. Don’t you want to stop living in fear?”

Kai hesitated, the spark flickering uncertainly in his chest. The man’s words were persuasive, but the knot of distrust in his gut refused to loosen.

“My son isn’t going anywhere with you,” his dad said firmly, stepping in front of Kai again.

The man’s jaw tightened. “You’re making a mistake.”

The agents around them shifted, their movements synchronized and deliberate.

Kai’s dad glanced over his shoulder, his voice low. “Kai, if something happens—”

“I’m not leaving you,” Kai said quickly, his eyes filling with tears.

His dad shook his head, his voice softening. “You have to. Promise me.”

Kai opened his mouth to argue, but the tension in his dad’s eyes silenced him.

The man raised his hand, signaling the agents. “This is your last chance, Mr. Paradox. Hand him over peacefully, and no one gets hurt.”

His dad squared his shoulders, his stance unyielding. “You’ll have to go through me first.”

The man’s expression darkened. “So be it.”

The agents moved as one, their movements swift and calculated. Kai’s dad pushed him back, his voice sharp. “Run, Kai!”

But before Kai could move, the spark flared again, brighter and hotter than ever.

The forest seemed to tremble, the air crackling with raw energy. Kai felt the power surging through him, uncontrollable and overwhelming.

And then, everything erupted.