No one has called or texted all day since I came home from campus after talking to the police. I manage not to drink, even though I desperately want to. I’m desperate to do anything that would erase from my mind the image of Lance falling.

But I can’t. It’s in here forever.

I assume it’s Bowman coming to ask more questions. Possibly to take me away forever.

Grendel is still at Preston’s house, and I miss his barking. I feel very alone, not having him at his post in the front of the house watching the porch and the street.

When I look outside, though, I see Rebecca Knox clutching a large envelope to her chest. She wears a wool hat pulled down low on her forehead and a bulky winter coat. A car sits at the curb, lights on, exhaust puffing out of the tailpipe. Someone is in the driver’s seat, but I can’t tell who.

I pull the door open and hold it for Rebecca.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Nye. I know I’m just showing up here like a freak.”

“That’s okay. Do you want to come in out of the cold?”

“Just for a minute. My mom’s waiting for me.”

She comes in, and I close the door. She stands in the middle of the living room with the envelope still clutched to her chest.

“Do you want to sit?” I ask.

“This will be fast. I’m going home. Maybe for the rest of the semester. After what happened today . . . Well, the university says I can take as much time as I want. And I can finish the year long-distance if I want.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I know it was disturbing.”

“Yeah. The thing is . . . I want to come back. Maybe in a couple of weeks. I like being in class and stuff. And I’m graduating, so I don’t want to miss anything. Like my friends. Even my roommate’s pretty okay.”

“I hope you do come back. But take your time. There’s no hurry.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“Did you have a question about class or something?” I ask. “I don’t know who’s going to be teaching it now. And I’m sorry about all the chaos.”

“No, not that. And I hope you don’t mind. . . . I looked your address up online. But I couldn’t find your phone number or I would have called first.”

“That’s okay. It’s nice to have company.”

Rebecca shrugs a little with the package in her hand. Then she extends it, holding it out to me in two gloved hands. “I think this is yours.”

Before she says anything else, I know what she’s handing me. I reach out and take it, my hands shaking. It feels heavy, substantial.

Important.