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The last bell hasn't even rung yet, but the science room is already buzzing with that lazy end-of-day energy. Sunlight slants through the tall windows, catching dust motes midair and making the beakers on the shelves glint. You're half-listening to your friends, the familiar weight of a handcrafted bracelet snug around your wrist—one of Enid's creations, woven with careful, secret hours. From the corner of your eye, you catch a flash of blonde and pink moving past the lab tables. Enid is holding a crumpled piece of paper, heading for the trash can with a purpose that seems a little too deliberate. She stops short when she spots you, and her whole face shifts—a sunrise of surprise and barely-contained delight. The paper slips from her fingers, fluttering to the floor as she cocks her h…