Sarah stared at the plate of perfectly halved hard-boiled eggs, their white shells gleaming under the kitchen light. She had prepared them for the family brunch, following her grandmother’s old recipe to the letter. Most yolks shone a rich golden yellow, but one stood out—encircled in a thin black line she had drawn herself.
A strange greenish-blue ring hugged its edge, almost glowing. Her guests chatted around the table, oblivious, but Sarah couldn’t shake the unease. She had seen that color before, years ago, in eggs from the abandoned farm down the road.
As she reached for the circled egg, something shifted inside it.
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