“Yes, of course,” Emily said, turning back to him. What was wrong with her? She needed to focus. Except she was sure she’d never seen that door before.
“Good.” Professor Vaughan leaned forward, elbows on his desk, fingers laced together. “Anyway, this project I’m talking about could be a very important opportunity for you. You would receive extra credit for it, obviously, but it’s also the kind of addition to your C.V. that medical schools find very appealing in candidates. When I was presented with the opportunity to bring in students from my class, I thought of you immediately. You’re one of my brightest pupils, Miss Bannerman. I’ve seen how hard you work to keep up your GPA. I think you’ve got a good mind — the right kind of mind for this project. If you’re interested, of course.”
She was. She’d always had a strong intellectual curiosity, driven since a young age to understand the world around her, how things worked, how things connected. It was why she was pursuing a medical degree. There was so much to learn about the human body, and especially the human mind, which often seemed to her as boundless and infinite as the cosmos itself. And Professor Vaughan was right, this did sound like something that could give her an edge when she started sending out applications.
“What exactly is the project?” she asked.
“I can’t divulge much at this time,” he said. “There’s a nondisclosure agreement you’ll have to sign, and then I can fill you in. I just need to know if you’re interested, and then we can make an appointment to get started.”
“I am, absolutely.” Her mind sorted through all the exciting possibilities. There was no shortage of topics to study in the field of neurology, or diseases to better understand, from cerebral palsy to autism, Rett syndrome, neurodegeneration…
“Excellent,” Vaughan said, leaning back in his chair. “However, I must ask you not to mention this to anyone. Best to consider the NDA already in effect, all right?”
“No problem,” she said. “I can sign it right now if you want.”
“Not yet. I’ll contact you when we’re ready to begin.”
He pushed his chair back and stood up, indicating that their conversation was over. Emily gathered her belongings, rose, and slung her backpack over her shoulder. On the professor’s desk was a framed photo showing a pretty, brown-haired woman smiling for the camera while two small boys clung shyly at her legs. Vaughan’s family, she supposed, although it was hard to imagine her stodgy, sweater-wrapped professor chasing after two little boys—
“Good day, Miss Bannerman,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. He was holding the office door open, letting in the cool air from outside.
As she turned to go, her eye caught the door in the wall again.
“Professor,” she ventured, “where does that door go?”
He looked at her for what seemed like a beat too long and smiled thinly. “Nowhere. It’s just a small closet for the heating pipes. Why?”
“No reason,” she said, but she thought his answer was odd. She could imagine an access panel in the wall to reach the pipes, but a door?
“You’re a liar!”
Emily straightened. The voice had sounded close, as though it were in the office with them, but nobody else was there.
“Is something the matter, Miss Bannerman?”
“No, everything’s fine.” She gave a quick smile and hurried out. She’d heard a voice, she was sure of it. The same woman’s voice she’d heard in the classroom. The same voice apparently no one else could hear.
I’m cracking up, she thought. She wouldn’t be the first premed student to buckle under the pressure. But something about the voice seemed so real.
That night, in her dorm room, with her roommate gone for the night, Sean kissed her passionately and backed her onto her bed. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said.
“Hold on,” she told him as he kissed her neck. “I have to tell you something. Professor Vaughan asked me to work with him on a new project. He wouldn’t tell me what it is, though.”
He looked up at her. “Yeah, he asked me, too. Something about the brain, I think. I’m supposed to drop by his office tomorrow to sign something.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked. That was fast. Why hadn’t Professor Vaughan asked her to come back tomorrow, too? She felt a little irritated that he’d already made plans for Sean to sign the papers but not her. But then Sean started kissing her again, and any disappointment she felt was quickly forgotten.
What’s left of my body if I have no eyes, no ears, no mouth? Do I have any physical form at all?
Now that the shock of finding myself here has passed, I’m starting to remember bits and pieces. The body on the table, the hypodermic needle, that grotesque, inhuman thing hiding in the shadows…
Oh God, this can’t be real, can it?
Emily expected Sean to come see her right after his meeting with Professor Vaughan. She was eager to hear all about the mysterious project they would be working on. Even if he’d signed the NDA, she knew she’d get the information out of him eventually. Sean was never very good at keeping things from her. She waited all day, checking her phone for text messages and emails. She ate lunch and dinner alone in the dining hall, waiting for him to show. By nine o’clock that night, she sent what had to be her fifteenth text.
where r u? seriously, r u ok?
She stayed awake as long as she could, clutching the phone like a lifeline, but no reply came. She drifted off toward dawn, woke again just a couple of hours later, and immediately checked her phone. Still nothing.
What if he was sick? She imagined Sean in his bed, wrapped in covers, sweating with fever, his phone somewhere out of reach. But a visit to his dorm room revealed a bed that hadn’t been slept in, and Sean’s roommate hadn’t seen him. He hadn’t come to her room, and he hadn’t returned to his own. So where was he?
In the lecture hall, Emily sat beside Sean’s empty seat. Professor Vaughan stood at the front of the hall, reading the students’ names off his attendance sheet. Emily glanced around nervously. Was Sean sitting somewhere else? Why would he do that?
Her mind was a thousand miles away when Professor Vaughan called her name. He had to say it twice before she replied. “Here.” He checked her name off, then moved on. Emily focused, listening for the name Sean Walsh, both anticipating it and dreading it as Vaughan moved through the alphabet.
“Prisha Vidyarthi.”
“Here.”
“Jacqueline Wright.”
“Here.”
Emily stiffened. He’d skipped right past Sean’s name. That wasn’t something he would do by mistake. Sean had disappeared yesterday, the same day he was supposed to meet with Vaughan, and today the professor had purposely omitted Sean’s name while taking attendance. He had to know where Sean was, or what had happened to him.
After class, Emily got stuck in the swell of students exiting the lecture hall. By the time she made it outside, Professor Vaughan was gone. She checked her watch. His office hours didn’t start for another hour, but this was too important to wait. She hurried through the student parking lot to Professor Vaughan’s office and was about to knock on the door when his raised voice came from inside, making her pause.
“But you don’t need another,” he said. “You have me, don’t you? You promised!”
A harsh, buzzing whisper came in reply, startling her. She took a step backward.
Professor Vaughan’s voice came again. “I’ve done everything you asked. Why do I have to wait?”
More buzzing came in reply, but it sounded different this time. Lower in tone and volume, like a conspiratorial whisper, or a warning. A moment passed, and then the office door opened slightly. Vaughan filled the gap in the doorway, a thin smile creasing his face. He didn’t look surprised to see her.