Chapter 12 #2
My gaze drifted past the officer, down the ruined hallway. Debris littered the floor: collapsed bulletin boards, shredded papers, ceiling fragments. Chunks of scorched plaster were smeared with soot, and it hit me—
That was soot. Black and fine and coating the hallway walls. I was wearing it.
My stomach bottomed out.
That could be from an actual explosion. Maybe I had been knocked out. Maybe everything I remembered was some twisted trauma response.
Maybe I’d lost my mind.
My pulse fluttered sickeningly fast. The whole nightmare, sparkling stones, ancient glyphs, robotic monsters…maybe it was all something my brain had made up to make sense of whatever had really happened.
Far down the hall, emergency strobes still flashed, flooding the space with cold white bursts. I stared straight into them, and for a second, I saw another light. One that had pulsed inside me. That soul-deep resonance.
I shuddered and pressed my fingertips into my eyes, trying to shut it out.
A hand touched my back, and I jumped.
The EMT crouched beside me again, concern etched into her expression. “I think you hit your head, Raven.” She paused. “Can I call you that?” When I didn’t respond, she continued, “Maybe it’s best you come with me to the hospital. We can check you out—”
“No!”
I flinched at my own voice. It came out too harsh, too loud. I pushed upright, fisting my hands in the front of my hoodie. The once-white fabric was dust-streaked and scorched around the sleeves.
“No hospitals,” I repeated more calmly. Not if I could help it. Not since Dad. “I’m fine. Really. Just…shaken up.”
I forced a slow breath, and when I looked away from her, I met Officer Brown’s astute hazel eyes instead. He still stood above me, watching the interaction with a narrowed, keen gaze. Waiting, I realized, for me to finish my story.
“Sorry. Um, so I was coming down here to find Professor Stern,” I said, gesturing toward the professor. I blinked hard and tried to find the words. “I had just opened the door and…”
My voice abandoned me.
For one, stretched-out moment, I considered telling the truth. All of it. The car accident. The robot. The glowing, crumbling tablet. The whole damn alien conspiracy theory, served up with a caution-tape bow.
And then I imagined their faces. The disbelief, the concern, and the polite, pitying looks that would quickly morph into suspicion.
My credibility would be shredded. Any chance at scholarships would be gone.
I’d be lucky not to end up institutionalized and whispering about mechanical monsters to someone with a clipboard.
Shit.
I was going to lie. Flat-out. To a police officer. To the EMTs. To Professor Stern. To everyone.
Even to my mom, when I called her later.
It was an explosion in the lab. That was it. The only explanation I could give. The only one they’d accept.
There was no sign of the robot. No evidence. Even the guards thought it had been a blast.
Hell, maybe it had been. Maybe I needed to see a person with a clipboard, after all.
The officer tapped his pen on his notepad, the sound loud enough to drag me back into the present. “You opened the door and…?” he prompted, eyes steady on mine. He was reading me. I knew it.
Here went nothing. I tightened my hold on my hoodie like it could ground me.
“Sorry. I, um, I opened the door, and then I remember being thrown backward. I think I hit my head and then…”
I shrugged, doing my best to sound dazed and not full of absolute crap.
But my heart jolted as I forced my face to stay neutral. I was a terrible liar, and I knew it. But if I could hold it together for just this one moment—
An eternity passed.
Then Officer Brown looked away and nodded, pen scratching across the paper, though I didn’t miss his brief hesitation. That was fine. I’d given my statement. I let out a slow, shaky breath.
I’d done it. I’d lied.
My gaze drifted past him. The trio of suits still stood near the stairwell. I hadn’t seen them speak to anyone. Hadn’t even seen them move. But the woman with the severe bun now had her eyes locked on me.
There was something about her stare. Not curious. Knowing.
A chill chased up my spine, and I looked away.
“Am I…” I started to rise then hesitated. Still seated, I turned to the EMT then to the professor. “Am I in trouble or something? Can I go?”
Professor Stern shook his head and extended a hand. “Of course you’re not in trouble, Raven. Here, let me help you up, if you’re ready.”
I was. The adrenaline had nowhere left to go. It crawled under my skin, leaving me jittery and twitchy. I reached up and let him pull me to my feet. The EMT rose with me, reaching to steady me if needed.
The hallway tilted like a funhouse. I managed to stay upright, though. My body ached but nothing felt broken, just bruised. My head throbbed. My knees screamed. I was going to be a walking patchwork quilt tomorrow.
But I was alive.
For now, that was enough.
“I’m sure this has something to do with the solar flare,” the professor said, patting my arm awkwardly before letting go. “There’s just…” I didn’t miss his glance toward the suits. “There’s been extra security. I was working on a project that had some important people’s attention.”
But then he exhaled a long, quiet sigh. “Sadly, everything in the clean lab is destroyed. Invaluable artifacts. We’ll have to start over. I’m glad no one was seriously hurt, but it’s still a tragedy.”
The tablet.
I swallowed hard, his words muffled. Was this shock? I didn’t know, but the memories were playing on a loop.
That strange stone. That thing hidden inside. The bright white light.
Could that have been part of his project? It had to be.
Could it have been why that creature was here?
God, this was like putting together a thousand-piece puzzle without the box to look at.
The professor bent and retrieved my book bag, handing it to me. “Now, what did you need to see me for, Rae?”
It took me a second to process the question.
Oh, right. I’d said I was here to find him.
And I had been.
But the questions I’d had didn’t matter anymore. Whatever he’d been working on, whatever had been going on here, I had a solid feeling it was gone now.
I’d watched that strange artifact crumble.
I’d seen something emerge that defied explanation.
Pushing the memory aside, I cleared my throat. “Oh. It was nothing. I had a question about a chapter for, uh, a different class I thought you could help with, but…” I forced a weak laugh and slid one bag strap over my shoulder.
My arm twinged. Right where those cold, inhuman fingers had gripped me. A reminder. A bruise that didn’t just live on the surface.
“It’s not important now,” I said.
Nothing was.
This changed everything.