“It’s for my final paper,” she tells us, and then something like panic flashes across her face. “The rough draft’s due tomorrow.” She presses her hands to her stomach and doubles over.

“Katie?”

Her whole body begins to tremble, and she takes short, shallow breaths.

“I can’t do it,” she says, eyes round. “It’s too much. I can’t—can’t breathe.”

Her hands shake.

“Katie,” I repeat, trying to be as calm as possible, “I think you’re having a panic attack.”

Her eyes widen. Her breaths turn into gasps.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. Have you had these before?”

A weak nod between inhales.

“Do you take any medication—”

Frantic head shake.

“It’s okay. You’re absolutely fine. You’re safe. I’m right here. I’ll help you through this. Just breathe. Can you take a deep breath? A little longer? Okay, now let it out, slowly.”

I sit next to her on the bed. Teddy’s at her desk. He’s looking at me curiously—surprised, I think, by my patience. But my dad has panic attacks sometimes, and I know irritation only makes them worse. Katie’s breaths are still shallow, but they’re lengthening.

“I barely knew him,” she says finally, with her eyes on the wall. And then in a small voice, “I swear.”

My phone buzzes, and I look down to silence it when I see it’s Truman.

Shit.

I gesture to Teddy, Sit with her. He looks from me to the bed and frantically shakes his head.

“I’ll be right outside,” I tell Katie. Truman, I mouth.

“Kaplan,” I say loudly as I head out the door.

“I don’t know what the two of you are thinking,” Truman growls in my ear, “but I want you both back here—now.”

“But we just—”

“Fifteen minutes, in my office.” The phone clicks.

I roll my head from side to side. On the opposite wall there’s a bulletin board for announcements. Colorful papers advertise upcoming lecture series and tutor opportunities. A psychology study. A party for Kap-O the week after Thanksgiving.

“Thanks, Katie,” I say, peeking my head in from the hall. “That’s all for now.” I don’t tell her she’s been a great help, because as far as I’m concerned this has been a colossal waste of time.

“If you remember anything that might be useful, here’s my card.” Teddy steps forward, but keeps his distance, hand outstretched.

In the hall, there’s the sound of footsteps.

“Time to go,” I murmur to Teddy, not wanting to give Trudy the pleasure of escorting us out.