“Give them your address,” Sam said to Avery. “Your phone is smart, and mine isn’t.”

Avery recited his email address.

When he got to the fbi.gov portion of the address, Trent paused and glanced up to take a closer look at the agent. “Did you say FBI?”

“Yes,” Avery said without giving any more information.

“Okay, I sent it.”

Avery retrieved his phone, and when a chime indicated the email had arrived, he looked at Sam. “Where do you want to send it?”

“To my sister for an ID.”

“What’s her number?”

Sam recited it from memory. “Tell her it’s me and I need to know who that girl is.”

“Done,” Avery said a minute later.

“We’d like access to Brooke’s room,” Sam said.

“Right this way,” Young replied from behind them. His voice startled her, but she wasn’t surprised he had followed them to the security area. Young and Ryder accompanied them out of the main administration building, across a grassy quadrangle to a brick dormitory called Aldrich Hall. They went up three flights of stairs to room 301.

“Has anyone been in here?” Sam asked.

“No,” Young said. “Brooke’s roommate left before she did, so the room has been empty since Brooke left.”

It was the first lucky break she’d gotten all day, Sam thought, as Ryder used a master key to open the door. The distinctive scent of her niece’s perfume was the first thing Sam noticed, and it brought tears to her eyes. Fighting them back with everything she had, she stepped into the room and took in the photos taped to the wall. She didn’t have to be told which side of the room belonged to Brooke. No Bieber or One Direction pretty boys for her girl, Sam thought. Brooke was all about the edgy, grungy guys, most of whom Sam didn’t recognize.

Her unmade bed was covered in a dark purple comforter, and clothes were strewn about on the floor along with several purple towels. On the bed sat the stuffed bear named Norman that Brooke had slept with all her life. The sight of Norman, battered and well loved, brought more tears to Sam’s eyes.

“They aren’t allowed to keep their rooms like this,” Young said with an air of disapproval.

“I’d think that with Brooke in ICU, due in part to the negligence of your staff, her messiness would be the least of your concerns,” Sam said as she approached the desk.

Avery produced evidence bags and gloves from his coat pockets, and they worked together to bag Brooke’s laptop and iPad.

Sam sifted through the papers on Brooke’s desk, but didn’t find anything other than notes from classes. “Your program includes counseling,” Sam said to Young. “I’d like to speak to the person who was working with Brooke.”