Gwen felt her body heating up, an unfamiliar sensation creeping through her veins.
Her head felt light, as if her blood was expanding in her brain. Each heartbeat pounded like a drum against her ribs, sending roaring pulses through her body. It wasn't like any fever or illness she had ever experienced before.
"Maybe I just need to calm down. Maybe it's just my anger boiling over because of that stupid newspaper article."
She tried to convince herself, inhaling deeply, but the rapid beating of her heart refused to settle.
Peter frowned at her reaction, noticing the faint flush on her face. "Are you sure that's all?"
Gwen nodded, though uncertainty flickered in her eyes. "It was worse a moment ago, but now it's subsiding. It felt like exhaustion after an intense workout. Like my whole body had gone weak for a second, but then I recovered."
Peter wasn't convinced. "Maybe you should go to the hospital, Gwen."
She waved a hand dismissively. "I'll think about it, but I don't think it's that serious."
After Peter left, Gwen exhaled sharply and pressed her fingertips against her temples. She could feel the pulse of her blood under her skin, thudding relentlessly. Her breathing had slowed, but her heartbeat hadn't. If anything, it felt like it was getting even faster.
"My heart's pounding harder than an astronaut launching into space," she thought, half-dazed by the sensation.
Her eyes wandered toward Peter as he walked away. For some reason, something about him was making her dizzy. His presence, the energy around him—it was affecting her in a way she couldn't explain.
Her pulse spiked again.
"Why is my heart beating this fast just from looking at him? Am I really that much of a lovestruck fool?"
She shook her head, pressing her hands against her flushed cheeks. It was embarrassing.
Meanwhile, Peter was lost in thought. There was something in the air—an unnatural scent—that had triggered Gwen's reaction. And he had a strong suspicion about where it came from.
Helen.
The new biology teacher.
She had something in common with Frank—the same aura, the same unnatural presence. Was it possible that she was another member of the Hand?
The Classroom Office
Peter made his way to the faculty office. When he stepped inside, Miss Fish, the stern and old-fashioned teacher, glanced up from her desk.
"Peter Parker," she said, narrowing her eyes. "If you're here during class hours, that usually means trouble."
Two senior students stood in front of her desk, looking like they had just been scolded.
"You two," she said, turning back to them. "Billy Deloitte and Henry Tennant. Detention after school. Two extra classes."
The students groaned and shuffled out of the office.
Peter waited for them to leave before stepping forward.
"I'm looking for Miss Helen. Is she here?"
Miss Fish raised an eyebrow. "I thought you came to ask for academic advice."
Peter shook his head. "No, I just need to speak with her."
Miss Fish sighed. "You're a little late. Many students have already asked about her."
Peter frowned. "Why?"
"Because she took a leave of absence."
That made him pause. "She took leave? Why?"
Miss Fish adjusted her glasses. "I don't know. She's a teacher, not a student. She doesn't need my permission to take time off."
Her tone grew more irritated as she muttered under her breath, "I swear, you boys are all obsessed with her. Maybe you should visit a church and get some advice from a priest. Be careful not to be tempted by the devil."
Peter ignored the jab and pressed on. "How much do you know about Miss Helen?"
Miss Fish's eyes narrowed. "That's not a question you should be asking, Parker."
There was a shift in her demeanor, a flicker of hesitation. Peter had always been quiet, the kind of student who avoided conflict. But today, his presence felt different. It was unsettling.
"If I were you," she continued, "I'd just go back to class."
Peter met her gaze evenly. "I will. But I still need to find her. If I can't, I might have to take a leave of absence and look for her myself."
Miss Fish stiffened.
She hated giving out leave slips more than anything. And Peter knew it.
She exhaled sharply. "Fine. I don't know where she is, but I have her address and email. You can contact her yourself."
She reached for a yellow leave slip and scribbled Helen's information onto it with a silver pocket pencil.
Peter noticed her hand twitch slightly.
"Did she hurt her thumb?"
She winced but quickly hid it, sliding the slip across the desk.
"This isn't private information," she muttered. "New teachers have to provide their addresses and contacts. If you're that determined, go ahead."
Peter took the slip and left the office.
He glanced at the address in his hand. Before he could think further, his phone buzzed.
A message from Gwen:
"Peter, come to the school swimming pool!"
Peter frowned.
"Swimming pool?"
That was odd.
Gwen wasn't on the swim team. And it was late in the year—too cold for anyone to be swimming.
Still, something in the message made him uneasy.
After a moment of hesitation, he turned and headed for the gymnasium.
The Swimming Pool
When Peter stepped inside, the sound of splashing water echoed through the empty indoor pool.
His eyes scanned the area.
There was only one person in the pool—a figure gliding effortlessly through the water.
Gwen.
She moved with a strange grace, her strokes cutting through the water like a mermaid. Her silhouette shimmered under the artificial lights, the water rippling around her.
Peter stood by the entrance, watching quietly.
Something about this scene felt... surreal.
The large indoor pool was silent, aside from the rhythmic splashes.
For a moment, he didn't say anything.
Then, he realized something was off.
Gwen wasn't swimming for leisure.
She was trying to cool herself down.
Peter took a step closer. "Gwen."
She didn't respond.
Her body tensed slightly, but she kept swimming, as if she was fighting something inside her.
Her breathing was uneven.
Peter felt a sense of unease creeping up his spine.
"What exactly is happening to her?"
Something wasn't right.
And he was going to find out what it was.