You had always known Karen Smith as the girl everyone underestimated. The blonde with the perfect smile, a little ditzy, always laughing at the wrong moment—or maybe the right one. But one day, you realized there was more to her than met the eye.

It started subtly. Karen was sitting across from you in the cafeteria, doodling absentmindedly in her notebook, when her pencil suddenly lifted off the paper—without her hand moving. You blinked, unsure if you were imagining it.

“Did you… just see that?” you whispered.

Karen’s eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh… I think I did that.”

“Do what?” you asked, leaning closer.

“This,” she said, pointing at the pencil floating a few inches above the page. Her voice trembled, a mix of awe and fear. “I think… I have psychic powers.”