That night he lay in his own bed for the first time in weeks, staring at the well-known patterns on the walls and ceiling. Nothing could have felt less familiar. It was as if his body, not his heart, had undergone the radical change, so that shadows fell with unaccustomed harshness on his foreign eyes, and the fibers of personal items rubbed on a borrowed skin. He did not belong here. This was not his place. These were not his things. He was the imposter.

*   *   *

In the morning, he rose, dressed, and headed for the lab as if he had been doing just that without interruption for the past two weeks. He had no idea what he would say to Pakt. He had no idea if there was still a job awaiting him. He could not imagine how he would explain his absence or return. He just could think of nothing else to do instead.

He arrived early, the first one there except for Pakt himself. Taking a deep breath, Nolan traversed the hall, knocked on the guldman’s door, and entered.

Pakt, who was seated at his desk poring over papers, looked up and then grew motionless. Nolan waited a moment for a greeting and then said, “Good morning.”

“I’d been wondering if you were still alive,” Pakt said in a neutral voice.

“I left you a note.”

“Not a very helpful one. Not too specific about dates and causes.”

“I wasn’t too sure about dates myself.”

“And causes?”

Nolan raised his hands as if they would help him shape the words, then dropped them and gave his shoulders an infinitesimal shrug. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk about the causes.”

Pakt leaned back in his chair and gestured Nolan to a seat. “Problems with Leesa?” he asked gently.

Nolan sat on the edge of the chair, arms on his knees, hands clasped before him. “Well,” he said slowly, “ultimately I guess it will come down to that.”

“I went by your apartment a week ago,” Pakt said. “But no one was there. No one had seen you.”

“I’ve been gone,” Nolan said.

“Let me know when you can talk about it,” the guldman said.

Nolan looked over at him. “You’re the only one I think I could talk to about it,” he said. “But I’m not sure—even you—” He let the words trail off.

“So. Are you back?”

“I’m back,” Nolan said. “If you still want me here.”

“We’ve all missed you.”

“What did you tell them? Cerisa and the others?”

“That you were having family problems. I pretended I knew something. I don’t think anyone will ask too many questions.”

Nolan rose to his feet because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Well. Thanks for that.”

Pakt stood, too, concern crossing his face. “Are you all right?” he asked with some urgency. “You look like you’re sick.”