The clock on the wall grunted and ticked. It read 8:17 A.M. Three minutes until the bell rang. Okay, good. The sign-up sheet was on the tall counter. He picked up the pen as casually as possible—Mr. Without A Care—and quickly signed in with intentionally messy handwriting. He grabbed a visitor pass. The two women behind the desk were busy. They didn’t bother to even glance his way.
No reason to wait, was there?
He hurried back down the hall, flashing his visitor pass at the guard. Like most high schools, there had been additions over the years, and that helped make traversing your way inside these arteries somewhat tricky. Still, when the bell sounded, Adam was perfectly situated to observe the door to room 233.
The students streamed out and collided and clogged the corridors like some medical documentary on heart disease. He waited until the flow of students petered out and then halted. Then, a few seconds later, a young man Adam guessed was probably under thirty came out and turned left.
A substitute.
Adam just stood there, pressing himself against the wall to let the student stream rush past him and not get caught in its current. He wasn’t sure what to think or do. Was he even surprised by this development? He didn’t know. He tried to put it together, tried to think about the links here—the fake pregnancy, the stranger, the confrontation—that had led to his wife’s choosing to run off for a few days.
It made no sense.
So what next?
Nothing, he supposed. At least, not right this very moment. Go to work. Do your job. Think it through. He was missing something. He knew that. Corinne had as much as admitted that, hadn’t she?
“It isn’t what you think, Adam. There’s more to this.”
When the flow of students turned into a trickle, he started back toward the front exit. He was lost in thought and about to make a turn when he felt fingers like a steel talon grip his arm. He turned and saw his wife’s friend, Kristin Hoy.
“What the hell is going on?” she whispered.
“What?”
Her muscles clearly were not just for show. She pulled him into an empty chemistry classroom and closed the door. There were workstations and beakers and sinks with high faucets. A giant chart of the periodic table of elements, both a staple of every science classroom and a cliché, dominated the far wall.
“Where is she?” Kristin asked.
Adam wasn’t sure how to play it, so he went with honesty. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know?”
“We were supposed to meet for dinner last night. She never showed.”
“She just didn’t . . . ?” Kristin shook her head in confusion. “Did you call the police?”
“What? No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. She sent a text. She said she needed some time away.”
“From what?”
Adam just looked at her.
Kristin said, “You?”
“Seems so.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Kristin stepped back, chastened. “So why are you here?”
“Because I want to make sure she’s okay. I figured she’d be at work. She never calls in sick.”
“Never,” Kristin agreed.
“Except, it seems, today.”
Kristin considered that. “I guess you guys have been fighting a lot.”
Adam didn’t really want to get into it, but what choice did he have? “Something has recently come up,” he said in his most noncommittal legal voice.
“It isn’t any of my business, right?”
“Right.”
“But it is kinda my business because Corinne made it part of my business.”
“What do you mean?”
Kristin sighed and put her hand to her mouth. Outside the school, her outfits were all about accentuating her toned body. She wore sleeveless blouses and either shorts or small skirts, even when the weather didn’t exactly call for it. In here, her blouse was more conservative, though you could still see the muscles near the clavicle and neck.
“I got a text too,” she said.
“What did it say?”
“Adam?”
“What?”
“I don’t want to get in the middle of this. You get that, right? You two have been having issues. I get that.”
“We haven’t been having issues.”
“But you just said—”
“We have an issue, one, and, well, it just came up.”
“When?”
“When did the issue come up?”
“Yes.”
“The day before yesterday.”
“Oh,” Kristin said.
“What do you mean, ‘Oh’?”
“It’s just that . . . I mean, Corinne has been acting strangely for the past month or so.”
Adam tried to keep a straight face. “Strange how?”
“Just, I don’t know, different. Distracted. She missed a class or two and asked me to cover for her. She missed a few workouts and said . . .”
Kristin stopped.
“Said what?” Adam prodded.
“Said if anybody asked where she was, to just say that she was there with me.”
Silence.
“Did she mean me, Kristin?”
“She never said that, no. Look, I better get back. I have class—”
Adam stepped in her path. “What did her text say?”
“What?”
“You said she sent you a text yesterday. What did it say?”
“Look, she’s my friend. You get that, right?”
“I’m not asking you to betray confidences.”
“Yeah, Adam, you kinda are.”
“I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Because this isn’t like her.”
“Maybe it’s just what she said to you. She needs time.”
“Is that what she texted you?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Wait, when? After school?”
“No,” Kristin said too slowly. “During.”
“During school?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“I don’t know. Around two o’clock.”
“Wasn’t she at school?”
“No.”
“She missed school yesterday too?”
“No,” Kristin said. “I saw Corinne in the morning. She was acting a little shaky. I guess that’s because you guys were fighting.”