Page 38 of Convergence

I stopped outside the dorm building and tried to open the door. It was locked and required a school ID to swipe in. I dug mine out of my coat pocket and swiped it. It flashed red. I swiped again. Red flash.

“We’re not residents of this building. It’s probably not going to open,” Everett explained before he took my hand to pull me back from the door.

I growled in frustration and looked around. A girl was coming towards the door from down the hall. She wore a heavy coat, a hat with the Truman Tiger logo on it, and carried her bookbag. She opened the door and her eyes swept over the three of us.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Daisy. Do you happen to know if she’s home?” Everett asked in a smooth voice. He wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat, he was wearing a navy blue Carhart beanie, but when he spoke in that tone, he verbally was removing his Stetson with a polite bow.

“Who?” the girl asked with a tilt of her head.

“Daisy Rossi? Or Francesca Rossi? Red curly hair, blue eyes?” Everett asked as the girl shook her head.

“She must be in a different dorm. I’m an RA here and I know everyone in this building. Sorry,” the girl said and carried on to her class.

“Are you sure it was this dorm?” Nate asked Everett.

“Absolutely sure. I always watched her go through these doors.” Everett shook his head and looked around.

Another student was approaching the building. It was a chubby, red-faced guy. If anyone was going to know Daisy, it was a male. “Excuse me, do you know Daisy Rossi?” Nate asked him.

“Daisy? No, I don’t know a Daisy,” the guy said as he stopped in front of us.

“Curly red hair, blue eyes, big rack?” Nate asked. I punched him in the side.

“I wish I knew her,” the guy shrugged. “Only one redhead here, and that’s Sarah.”

“Thanks anyway,” Nate said as the guy swiped into the dorm. Nate turned to us. “Um, what the hell?”

“We must have the building wrong,” I said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Everett nodded. “Let’s ask Professor Hoffmann if he knows where she lives. I don’t want to ask her in text where she lives. I have a feeling she’d lie or be weird about it.”

We got back into the truck and Everett drove us to the building where we first met, assuming that was where Professor Hoffmann’s office was. Upon entering the building, a different young receptionist than the last time we were here greeted us. Professor Hoffmann’s office was not ‌in this building and the receptionist did not know who he was to direct us.

Silently, we walked to the building that housed the science department of the college. Professor Hoffmann had to teach more than us and had to have a place for office hours with his students. Students were coming and going from the building, meaning classes were in session. I hoped we could catch him between classes or during office hours. We hadn’t needed to swipe into the building since other students were around, but we had to look at the building directory to find where staff offices were located. We took the elevator to the top floor and exited into a quiet vestibule. A few teaching assistants were using the space to sort out papers. We walked up and down the hallways, reading the name plaques with no success.

Nate spoke to the teaching assistants in the vestibule when we couldn’t find his office, and they said they didn’t know him and had never heard of him. We rode the elevator back down in tense silence. Nobody wanted to even guess at what was happening or voice their concerns aloud. As soon as the doors opened, both guys stormed out and went to two different students and asked about both Daisy and Professor Hoffmann. Neither student knew who they were talking about. I caught sight of a professor coming down the hall, carrying a stack of papers and a coffee. He was checking his watch as I approached.

“Excuse me,” I said, determined to contribute to the search. “I’m looking for Professor Hoffmann. Do you know where I might find him?”

The young professor’s polite face faltered for a moment. “I am not sure who you’re talking about,” he said, and his eyes glanced up at Everett and Nate as they approached behind me.

“He’s a science professor, and oversees the PhD program,” I elaborated.

The professor straightened his stance and looked around. He was clearly nervous. “No, I don’t know him. I’m sorry. You could always ask the registrar’s office. Now if you’ll excuse me…” he said before rushing off.

“Something’s wrong,” I said to the guys. They both nodded and looked around at the other students and professors moving through the lobby. “Are we going to the registrar’s office? I kind of want to know where his office is now.”

I forgot my anger with Daisy in my confusion over where she and Professor Hoffmann were.

“Yeah, I need to sort this out,” Everett said, and led the way out to the registrar’s office.

A squat, elderly woman manned the desk. “Good afternoon, dears. Registration for second semester classes has ended already. I hope that’s not what you’re here for,” she said in a warm voice.

“No, we’re looking for a professor’s office,” Everett said. “Professor Hoffmann, science department.”

“Did you check the science building?” she asked as she peered through her bifocals at her computer screen, typing away.

“Yes, ma’am,” Everett replied politely.

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