I didn’t sign up for this. None of us did. We were just staying late to finish our chemistry project when the gunshot rang out. Mr. Kessler dropped like a puppet with cut strings. Blood spread under his lab coat like a dark flower blooming. The killer saw us, our eyes met through the cracked door. And then he smiled. Now we’re running, hiding, digging. Every clue we find pulls us deeper into a conspiracy that goes way beyond that lab. But the truth? It might be the most dangerous thing of all.