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ears rang, words reaching me in muffled waves. I teetered as they led me to the bed. Gabe whispered, gripping my arm, “It’s okay.”
    â€œIs that guy all right?” someone asked. “Looks really out of it.”
    â€œHe’s fine,” Gabe said. “He’s just blind.”
    It was true for the moment, anyway. I tried to blink things clear, but it was little use. Sounds were garbled and tinny. My heart sped up. I was so going to be sick.
    There was a silence, and then Marisa spoke. I strained to understand through the distortion. “It’s my room, Officer. We were just getting a bit silly. My boyfriend and I knocked heads.”
    â€œYou shouldn’t have this many people in your room at this hour.”
    Marisa laughed. “I know. But it’s a special time. My good friend Gabriella Sorensen, the famous pianist, just got accepted here. She brought her friend along on his first trip to New York. He lost his sight when he was thirteen and has always wanted to visit. You’re familiar with Isabella Sorensen, aren’t you?”
    â€œAs in the Sorensen Theater?” asked the officer.
    â€œYep,” said Marisa. “As in the famous opera singer that donated half the money for the concert hall.”
    â€œAh, I see,” said the officer. “But we did get an alert from the NYPD. A body was found a few blocks from here. Maybe consider calling it a night?”
    The words slashed through my daze like cold steel. A body? I began to shake as if I’d been packed in ice.
    â€œOh, shit,” Gabe said softly beside me.
    Fingers dug into my arm. Glass hissed in my ear. “Don’t even think about saying anything, Pendell.”
    Now there was a body. And an attacker on the loose, and Glass wanted me to stay quiet. It was insane. Jeremy Glass was insane.
    But with Marisa unwilling to speak, I was in no position to argue. No one would believe me. Plus, I was still frozen, unable to utter a word.
    After the campus security officers left, things came slowly back into focus. I could move again, if a bit sluggishly. Marisa had pulled her dark hair back into a semblance of a ponytail.
    â€œThat was pretty smooth,” Gabe said, eyeing her warily. “How on earth did you know all that about me?”
    Marisa had crumpled, all traces of bravado gone. “When Jeremy told me he was at the Smoke and Jazz Lounge, I looked up the website. I saw your face and read about your background.”
    Marisa leaned against Jeremy, her face hidden. He pulled her close, protectively stroking her hair. “How do you think she got here in the first place? Research is Marisa’s middle name. Especially when it comes to my whereabouts. Nice work about the blind thing, girls.”
    Marisa looked up at him and managed to smile. But I could see she was still shaking. And with the vision waiting to pull me back into madness, so was I.
    â€œSo, I guess that’s it, then?” Gabe threw up her hands and began to pace the dorm room. “We don’t go to the cops?”
    â€œAbsolutely not. I thought we were clear on that,” Glass said.
    â€œI can’t. You wouldn’t understand. If Papa ever found out…he never wanted me to come here in the first place.”
    â€œIt’s not their business,” Glass snapped.
    â€œThese guys are ridiculous.” Gabe said. “Let’s just try to enjoy our weekend and buzz out of here, Bobby. I’ve had enough.”
    Phantom shreds of the vision streaked across my sight like cobwebs. I knew if I didn’t do something, it would only get worse. I clenched and unclenched my fists. “No,” I said, softly.
    â€œWhat?” Gabe swiveled on me. “Bobby, you’re not thinking clearly. Let’s go now. Please.”
    â€œNo,” I said. “We can’t.”
    I didn’t just want to find out who Marisa’s attacker was.
    I had to.

8
    Jeremy
    Saturday: 1:52 AM
    P