The Accident That Changed Everything

Sophia had just finished a long day of lectures and study group meetings — the latter now slightly less awkward since Emily had left the group.

She was tired.

But she also hadn't eaten anything since morning.

So after a quick call to Zara — who reminded her to eat or she'd drag her to the dining hall herself — Sophia grabbed her keys, her phone, and her worn-out black jacket and stepped out into the evening.

The air had a chill to it, but it felt good on her skin. She needed the walk more than she realized.

She made her way to the small grocery store two blocks from campus — Maple & Grove Market, a cozy little shop tucked between a bookstore and a bakery.

She walked in at 8:52 PM, the bell above the door jingling softly.

The store was quiet, filled with the scent of fresh bread and cleaning products.

She grabbed a small basket and picked up a few essentials — granola bars, almond milk, and a bag of trail mix — before heading to the counter.

Sophia stepped out of the grocery store, her brown paper bag gently crinkling in one arm, purse hanging loose from her shoulder.

The sidewalk was dim. The streetlamps buzzed faintly.

She had barely taken five steps when it happened.

A sharp yank.

Her purse was torn from her shoulder.

A shadowy figure dashed past her, darting down a side alley.

"Hey!" she shouted, startled.

Heart pounding, she bolted after the thief. Instinct overpowered logic. She didn't stop to think. Didn't care who they were. She just needed her things—her phone, her wallet, her dorm key, her ID.

She turned the corner.

And then—

A flash of headlights.

A deafening honk.

Screeching tires.

Sophia barely had time to see the city bus barreling down the narrow street.

She tried to stop.

Too late.

The impact threw her sideways. Her shoulder collided hard with the metal, sending her spinning to the ground. Her groceries exploded across the asphalt.

She lay there—arms limp, legs twisted, jacket torn.

Unmoving.

The world blurred. The stars above flickered. Then vanished.

Not far away, the thief stood frozen.

The crash had stopped him cold.

This wasn't the plan.

He looked at the fallen girl. Looked at the crowd beginning to form. Sirens in the distance.

Fear overtook him.

Without a word, he dropped her purse on the pavement near her body.

And ran.

Not for the money.

But from whatever he feared more.

Maybe he had been a puppet in something bigger.

Maybe he was the warning, not the threat.

"Call an ambulance!"

"She's bleeding!"

Voices swarmed.

A man in a hoodie disappeared into the shadows. A woman crouched beside Sophia, checking her pulse with trembling fingers.

Paramedics arrived in minutes.

A young EMT radioed in. "Female, mid-20s. Head trauma. Possible dislocation in the shoulder. Unconscious. Pulse fading."

The bus driver stood by the door, white-knuckled and shaking.

Sophia was lifted onto a stretcher.

Her eyes didn't open.

She didn't flinch when they inserted the IV.

Didn't respond to her name.

Sophia Thomas had left the world behind—at least for now.

The brown paper bag lay scattered across the pavement.

Crushed almond milk. Spilled granola bars. The scent of fresh bread now stained with oil and fear.

And there it was.

Her purse.

Returned.

Unzipped but untouched.

Left like a riddle on the cold ground.