I woke up in the middle of the night with a sharp, burning ache in my legs.
At first, I thought it was just cramps—maybe I’d slept weird, or all the chaos from earlier had finally caught up with me. But then the heat spread. It wasn’t just in my legs. It was everywhere. My arms. My spine. My chest. Every bone felt like it was being stretched like taffy.
I sat up fast, breathing hard. “No, no, no…”
The room was dark, but I could see the faint glow from the bracelet on my wrist. It was pulsing again. Slower than before, but steadier—like it was charging up for something big.
I tried to slip it off. Again. It didn’t budge. My fingers clawed at it, my skin slick with sweat, but it was like it was welded to me now.
Then it started.
The same feeling as before, but worse. My body stretched with a deep, pulling sensation that made me grit my teeth. My pajamas, already tight from earlier, strained at the seams. I could feel the fabric tug against my shoulders and chest as I grew. The hem of my shirt rode up over my stomach, exposing skin that felt hot to the touch.
I stumbled out of bed and stood, swaying on legs that suddenly felt longer. Taller.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror again. I could see it happening.
My head creeping higher. My neck elongating, my arms growing longer and more defined. My legs thickening, calves and thighs growing stronger, like I was being stretched on some invisible rack.
Five-seven. Five-eight. Five-nine. The marks on the wall blurred past in seconds.
“Stop,” I whispered. “Please stop…”
But it didn’t.
The bracelet flashed again. A bright, blinding blue. My breath caught in my throat as my body surged one more time. My hands reached up, trying to press against the ceiling that felt closer than it had before, even if it was still far away.
When it finally slowed, I collapsed to my knees, panting. The ache faded into a dull throb, like growing pains times a thousand.
I glanced at the marks on the wall. Five-eleven.
I pulled myself up to stand—wobbly at first, then steadier. My head was inches above the six-foot mark now. Six-three, I realized.
Six-foot-three.
I was taller than Dad. Taller than almost anyone I’d ever met. And it was me. Mollie.
The bracelet gave one final, weak flicker and then dimmed again. I didn’t know if that was a good thing… or if it was saving up for something worse.
The door creaked open behind me.
“Mollie?” Hillary’s voice was soft, careful.
I turned, already knowing what I looked like through her eyes. Bigger. Older. Like I’d skipped years ahead in my life while she was still… well, normal.
Her face was pale, but she came into the room anyway. “It happened again, didn’t it?”
I nodded, throat too tight to speak.
She looked me up and down, measuring. “How tall are you now?”
“Six-three,” I whispered. The words felt heavy. Like saying them made it more real.
She let out a shaky breath and sat down on my bed. Her feet dangled off the edge. She looked smaller than she had earlier, though I knew it was just me who had changed.
For a minute, we sat there in silence. My heartbeat was finally slowing, though I could still feel it pounding in my ears.
“What do we do now?” I asked quietly.
Hillary looked up at me, her expression serious. “We stop waiting. We fix this.”
I nodded slowly, flexing my too-long fingers. My body was different. Heavy. Strong. It wasn’t mine… but it was all I had right now.
And I wasn’t going to wait around for the next surge.
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