---
In a mere five minutes, Layla answered all twenty questions on the math test. Her pen moved swiftly, her thoughts precise and lightning-fast. She didn't even need to double-check her answers—she knew they were correct. Every single one of them. The knowledge flowed into her brain as easily as breathing, her understanding sharper than ever. A week ago, this kind of performance would've been impossible. But now? Something had changed inside her. Something powerful.
Layla set her pen down and glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the test began. The room was dead silent, apart from the occasional scribble of pencils and the quiet ticking of the clock above the whiteboard.
Then, calmly, she stood up.
Her classmates barely noticed at first. But when she walked confidently to the door, several heads turned. Whispers started to ripple through the classroom. Asma looked up from her own paper, her brows furrowing in concern.
"Layla?" the math teacher called, his voice quiet but sharp. "Where are you going?"
Layla turned around and answered in a clear, steady voice. "Outside. I've finished my test."
"You finished? Already?" The teacher raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. One hundred percent sure," she replied, her tone casual.
The teacher stared at her for a moment, clearly doubtful. Then he gave a small nod. "Fine. Leave your paper on the desk and wait quietly outside."
Layla gave a polite nod and exited, leaving her answer sheet neatly placed on her desk.
As soon as the door closed behind her, soft giggles and murmurs began to spread across the room. Some students smirked. Others looked shocked.
"Did she just give up?" one boy whispered to another.
"Probably couldn't even understand half the questions. Classic Layla," came the quiet reply.
"She was always bottom ten. Finishing in five minutes? Who's she fooling?"
Even Asma, who always stood up for her best friend, stared at the door with a worried expression. She glanced at Layla's answer sheet briefly, tempted to peek, but resisted. Layla was... different today. Distant. Asma couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something had shifted. Layla didn't even say goodbye before leaving the classroom. That wasn't like her.
Asma sighed and focused back on her test. She still had fifty-five minutes left, and she needed every second of it.
---
Meanwhile, Layla walked calmly down the hallway. Her steps were slow and thoughtful. She passed a few students from other classes, but her mind wasn't on them.
She made her way to the school playground. It was nearly deserted, save for a janitor sweeping leaves and a stray dog lounging under a tree.
Layla found a bench under the sun and sat down, pulling out her phone. She opened Google and typed:
"How to make fast money"
The results flooded in.
Freelancing
Sell unused items
Food/grocery delivery
Tutoring
Odd jobs
Flip items
Online surveys & tasks
Print-on-demand
Crypto or stock trading
Sports betting
Resell limited edition items
Layla scrolled through the list without much interest. Nothing stood out. Not yet. But then her mind drifted to the moment earlier that morning—when she heard the woman's cry from hundreds of meters away. That sound had pierced her mind like it was right next to her. How was that possible?
And the test just now. She hadn't even studied this past week. She should've forgotten formulas, theorems—everything. But it was all there, clearer than ever.
She could remember everything she read, everything she saw, and hear things from far away... like superhuman senses.
She wasn't normal anymore.
But how do I use this to make money? she wondered.
Casino betting crossed her mind. She shook her head slowly. Too risky. Too many rules. Too many eyes.
She had an ability now. A secret one. But it wasn't something she could tell anyone. Not even Asma. Especially not Asma.
Asma was her best friend, but she was also too good-hearted, too honest. The kind of girl who would freak out, or worse—convince her to hide away and never use her powers at all. Layla couldn't afford that. She needed money. She needed a plan.
A slow smirk formed on her lips.
"I need to outsmart the system," she whispered to herself.
Her eyes scanned the sky for a moment, lost in thought. Then she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees.
"I'm not going to be the girl they mock anymore," she murmured. "I'll be the one they whisper about with fear and respect."
---
Back in the classroom, the math test continued. Asma wrote steadily, eyes flicking between the paper and the clock. When the teacher announced ten minutes remaining, she picked up the pace. By the time the bell rang, she had just finished her last question.
"Pass your papers forward," the teacher instructed. The students obeyed.
Asma stood and stretched, stealing a glance at Layla's empty seat. She was worried. Layla hadn't texted her. Was she okay?
As the students began filing out, Asma reached for her phone.
[Asma]: Where did you go? Are you okay?
She hit send.
---
Layla's phone buzzed. She glanced at the message.
She didn't reply.
Not yet.
She stood and began walking again, hands in her pockets, head held high. For the first time in a long while, Layla didn't feel like a failure. She didn't feel small. She didn't feel like a joke.
She felt powerful.
And she had no intention of telling anyone.
Not even Asma.
---