“Not in the—no,” she says. “Which is a good sign. The police said they are confident that if he did fall they would have spotted some sign by now.” She hesitates, trying to choose her words carefully. “I guess they know where people usually turn up from the currents . . .” She glances in Dr. Haddox’s direction. “I did ask them to confirm with Jasper’s parents that he made it home safely. If I were you, that’s the only thing that would put my mind fully at ease. The police promised to call me back personally on my cell when they’d confirmed. And I promise, I will call Dr. Haddox as soon as I hear from them.”

She says this with a kind of grim determination—like staying on the case won’t be easy, but she’s up to the task. I want to find it comforting, but it is just the opposite. Still, overall I do feel less panicked about Jasper, but that’s an instinct that would be easier to follow if Dr. Alvarez didn’t still seem so upset.

“What’s wrong then?” I ask her. “You seem more worried than before.”

Dr. Alvarez smiles in a way that is not at all convincing, then puts a kind hand on my arm and squeezes. “Nothing—nothing about Jasper. I just—don’t feel well. Maybe something I ate.” That’s a lie for sure. No matter how good Dr. Alvarez’s intentions, that does not make it any more comforting.

“You should go home, Dr. Alvarez. Take care of yourself,” Dr. Haddox says, and he does not mean by drinking some ginger ale and going to bed early. This talk of sickness is a cover for something else. And they both know it.

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Alvarez says to Dr. Haddox before walking on.

He nods. “It’s not your fault.”

Dr. Haddox and I watch as Dr. Alvarez heads back the way we came. We are quiet until she disappears around the corner.

“Come on, the common room is down this way,” Dr. Haddox says.

AT THE END of the hall is a set of locked windowless doors. Dr. Haddox touches an ID to the keypad, and the doors buzz open. He waves me in ahead of him.