Waking up to my sin
This was the only thing that made sense after forty-eight hours of staring at microscopes.
"The heart rate is spiking into the 180s, then dropping to near-zero," Sally muttered, the sound of her typing a rapid-fire staccato in my ear. "It’s a biological fluctuation. If this is another kid, they’re hitting a threshold. If they ‘flare’ in the middle of a crowded neighborhood, every satellite from here to London is going to light up like a flare in a dark room."
"I’m five minutes out," I said, flooring the accelerator.