Racheal's eyes widened in shock as the footage began to play. The screen flickered to life, revealing a version of herself she barely recognized—walking out of Penelope's room. Her own face stared back at her, but the scene didn't sit right. There she was, looking as though she was sneaking down the hallway, glancing nervously over her shoulder, clutching a stack of folders as if they were the only thing keeping her steady.
Her breath hitched in her throat. This wasn't right. Her mind raced. She didn't remember this—she didn't remember doing this. Racheal's heart thudded louder with each passing second as she watched herself move through the hall, carefully avoiding anyone's gaze, as if trying to disappear into the shadows.
"What... what is this?" Racheal stammered, her voice barely rising above a whisper. She cut herself off, her words dying in the air as confusion and panic clouded her thoughts.
