August seventeenth, nineteen seventy-four. At Cleveland Mercy Hospital in Ohio, the night shift hums with a quiet tension. For Nurse Mary Thompson, a thirty-two-year-old veteran of this floor for ten years, it was a night like any other. She had seen it all. Or so she thought.
At precisely three-seventeen in the morning, the hallway lamps flickered once, twice, three times. The air dropped, be...
