“Whenever it’s a slow news day or whatever,” the guy said. “Can you leave now? Before I have to call the cops?”

“Last Wednesday.” Eli turned to him. “There were four of us there after school. No teacher. Just students. This ringing a bell?”

“Maybe,” he said. “One of the girls is blond and …”

“Did you see anyone in that room right before us? Like leaving something on the desk?”

“Nope,” he said, and he reached for a pack of cigarettes and lit one with a lighter he drew from his pocket. “Thought I saw a bird fly into that room one day, though. Can’t remember which day, though.”

At the window again, he pointed. “There’s pigeons on that roof over there. Dumb as oxes. Look at them. Here it comes.”

From a high window, a woman tossed a loaf’s worth of bread crumbs onto the sidewalk, and pigeons dove for them with such force—and in such numbers—that it looked as if someone had opened a massive bag of dead birds and dumped them off the roof. One bird after another after another—fly-falling too fast—until finally they settled by the curb in a thrumming flock. Not dead after all.

Eli faced the man. “You sure you weren’t specifically watching that day for a particular reason that you wouldn’t be allowed to talk about?”

The guy exhaled a stream of smoke straight into Eli’s face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, man.”

“So you didn’t see anything strange in the classroom?”

“No.” He inhaled and spoke tightly. “What’s this about?”

Eli was out of questions and stood there only a moment more, taking mental notes, if it were possible to take notes on how not to end up in life.

“You should stop doing that,” Eli said. “Bird watching.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” the guy said.

Eli watched a group of girls break free from a student cluster and walk off down the street.

He grabbed the binoculars from the sill.

One of them was … Svetlana?

It couldn’t be but …

He put the binoculars down and headed for the door, punched the elevator button in the hall. A train went by and a dusty lamp hanging in the hall shivered.

The elevator came, and he punched the L button four times.

“Come on, come on,” he muttered, watching the floors tick down.

Out on the street, the girls were gone around some unknown corner.

Anyway, he was losing his mind.

Imagining it.

Wishing it.

Eden had shoved the piece of paper into his hands before taking off with her friend earlier. He took it out now and studied it.

She’d lost her mind, too.

It would never work.

He had a text from Marwan and felt oddly grateful for it, for a place to go.

Eden

EDEN