NIGHT SHIFT NOTES

December at Terrell isn’t quiet. It’s controlled. Three months after Rae was committed, another girl is found in a utility closet—bruised, gasping, plastic embedded in her cheek. No accident. No mistake. Everyone knows who could’ve done it. The problem isn’t suspicion. It’s proof. And in a locked ward full of cameras and charts, proof is the one thing that keeps slipping through the cracks.