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“We’re pretty private people. No one knows where we live, and with me being a teacher…” The prof trails off.
“Oh.” I don’t want to get him into trouble. Even if he is an arse.
“I’m sure you understand,” he says sharply.
I nod, even though I’m not sure I do understand.
“Can I just go home then? Will one of you give me a lift back to campus?” I ask.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea either.”
This time I gape at him. “What?”
“Miss Van der Zee, a girl waskilledyesterday, feet away from where you were. It’s too dangerous for you to be alone on campus right now.”
“But I never go out!” I protest.
“Exactly. If that girl’s death wasn’t a random coincidenceagain, then whoever targeted her might come looking for you. You’re quite distinctive. They’d easily find you, sitting alone in your room.” He doesn’t need to make it sound that pathetic, but I guess it really is.
“What do you mean,again?” I ask sharply.
“There were deaths before.”
“Before, what?”
“Before you disappeared.”
I squirm, embarrassed that they all seem to know what happened to me. About my breakdown. But I guess with my doctor sitting at the table, they would. Did he spill all my secrets? All of my insecurities and fears?
God, I hope not.
“And?” I get the sense they’re not telling me something.
“The deaths…thekillingsstopped while you were in the hospital.” He hesitates for a split second before continuing. “And the victims were always found near places you’d recently been. We don’t think it’s a coincidence that now you’re out, and actually leaving your room, they’ve started again.”
“You think I had something to do with this? With any of it?”
The others cry “no” as the professor looks me dead in the eye with a curt, “Yes.”
My heart stops.
“But not like you’re thinking.”
“You think I killed people?” I whisper, disbelieving.
I never hurt anyone. Did I?
“No. But I think this involves you somehow.”
“That’s crazy. How? Why?”
“We’re still figuring it out.”
That’s a lie. Or at least a withholding of key information. I get the feeling that all four men sitting around this table know a hell of a lot more about this situation, aboutme, than they’re currently letting on. Especially when the ghost of a memory echoes in my mind saying ‘Can we alter her memories?’.
What the hell? Were they talking about me? That was definitely Cove’s voice I remember hearing.
I’m not convinced that I should trust them.
