Page 55 of Conspiracies and Chemistry

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I’m so sorry. Are you sure I can’t come over? I’ll bring you a heating pad

Thanks, but a heating pad won’t cut it. Painkillers are awesome. But not safe to drive. Savannah is taking care of me

I’m glad you’re letting someone take care of you.

Jealous you’re missing this?

(The attached selfie shows Tessa with her hair piled in a bun on top of her head, wearing an old, frayed T-shirt with animal hair on it. She is wearing no makeup, and her pupils are dilated.)

I’m positively green

I don’t know whether or not to take you seriously

I’m very serious. Can I come over?

I don’t think that’s a good idea

Okay, how about later this week?

I’m sure I’ll be back in the office by Wednesday or Thursday. My symptoms usually subside in a few days

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Okay. I’ll wait. I hope you feel better soon.

Icouldn’t wait.

When she didn’t show up in the officethree days later,on Thursday, my anxiety went into overdrive. In her texts, she said she was fine, but I needed to see it myself.

I hoped it justified the lie I’d told. I’d asked the most junior person on West’s team for Tessa’s address, and her eyes had practically turned into heart shapes when I’d said I wanted to send my colleague flowers because she’d been sick.

It was thesendingpart I’d lied about.

But something wasn’t right about the address I’d been given.

Clutching a bouquet of red and white roses wrapped in crinkly plastic, I stood in front of a small apartment building on the outskirts of San Jose. The two-story building was a nondescript, weathered gray, and the small lawn hadn’t seen a mower in weeks. A cracked pot at the entrance held the remains of a plant that had given up a while ago. A sprawling, bushy tree screened half of the building from the road, and dense evergreens surrounded it at the rear. The back of my neck prickled. Anyone could’ve been hiding back there. A stalker. A murderous gang. An arsonist, though that might have done the owner a favor.

Tessa had owned a billion-dollar company. She couldn’t live here. That human resources person had to have been bullshitting me. It served me right for showing up without an invitation.

I picked my way up the cracked sidewalk to the entrance, where a rusty bicycle leaned up against the front wall. There was a cobwebbed video doorbell, the old kind that was as big as my farsighted dad’s mobile phone. This one had a small video screen mounted above it. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the button.

After a second, the video screen flared to life. A burly, bald white man squinted at the screen. “No soliciting!” he growled.

“I—I’m not selling anything,” I said. “Does Tessa Wright live here?”

“Who?” He leaned closer until I could see the dark hair sprouting from his ear.

“Tessa. Wright.” I enunciated each syllable.

“Never heard of ’em. Go away.” The video glitched in the middle like it was a bad connection.

“Wait!” I said. “Are you sure?” WasIsure? Not at all, but this was the only address I had.

“Don’t come back.” The video screen went black.

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