By the time we left the lab, the air outside had turned heavy and electric, the kind of quiet that happens right before a storm breaks loose. Blake — in my body — was walking ahead, hands jammed in his hoodie pockets, every step stiff with frustration. I followed a few paces behind, trying to ignore how wrong everything felt.

The halls were empty now, washed in that pale, bluish light from the windows. Every sound echoed — our footsteps, the faint squeak of my shoes (his shoes, ...