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ruined everything by dragging Zeb off to his lab. So I went hunting instead.”
    Curiosity simmered in the back of Allie’s brain, wondering about the military interest in the talented student. “What did they want?”
    Eloise shrugged her shoulders and deposited the creatures on her desk. “I don’t know, they were all pretty tight-lipped about it. We couldn’t finish the experiment, so I thought I’d work on these.” Her eyes shone with the lure of the pending experiment. “I want to see which reanimates the most readily, amphibian or mammal.”
    Allie sat up. “I’ll leave you to it. I’m going to go down to the library.”
    She grabbed a book from her nightstand and slipped out the door. Her stomach gave a growl in the silent corridor and gave her another reason to seek solace in the library; her grandfather would have secreted food somewhere around his desk. Usually engrossed in his studies, he had the habit of keeping something handy for when hunger struck. She couldn’t contemplate braving the dining hall for dinner unless she wanted to serve herself up, to be sliced next to the roast beef; she decided to take her chances with what she could forage.
    She pushed through the double doors into the enveloping silence of the stacks. The interior was softly lit at regular intervals by hanging iron lights, and the air was heavy with the scent of paper and old undisturbed dust. The rows of floor to ceiling books were oddly comforting. Books didn’t judge or make snide remarks. They didn’t comment about what place was assigned to you in the world based solely on the accident of your birth.
    Allie headed down the central spine to the ornate oversized desk. She spotted an apple sitting on the blotter pad and a quick rummage in the drawers yielded a cheese sandwich and much to her glee, a small stash of Turkish Delight.
    Scavenged meal in hand, she tossed up where to eat. She eyed up the nook with its comfy leather sofas and gargoyle-wrought fireplace but Zeb had already staked a claim. With several textbooks spread out on the low table, he appeared to be doing a comparative study. He muttered to himself as he flipped from book to book and scribbled notes on a pad, balanced on his knee. A deep frown ploughed his forehead.
    Obviously finished with the soldiers.
    “Problem?” she asked.
    He glanced up on hearing her. She wandered closer and gestured to the books spread over every available surface in the cosy corner. Formulas covered his pad, as indecipherable to Allie as the hieroglyphics on tomb walls.
    “Yes,” he replied a frown plastered to his face. “One that keeps exploding when it shouldn’t.”
    “Sounds like a military problem, rather than an academic one.”
    The frown never budged. “Yes, and they do get rather impatient.” He dropped one book and picked up another. “But I require an academic application to solve the pressure problem, not brute military force.”
    Allie suspected his meeting did not end well. “Did they suggest hitting it?”
    He flashed a quick smile. “Why is that always their first suggestion?”
    Because they are boys. “Standard military operating procedure in the face of a problem, you either shoot it, hit it, or blow it up. I’ll leave you to solve your problem.”
    Allie found the nook too secluded, tucked around the corner; but from the desk, she could keep one wary eye on the door. She dropped herself into the black leather chair and propped her feet up. She ate her grandfather’s snack while reading Mary Shelly’s novel Frankenstein. The choice of novel was inspired by her roommate.
    Time passed in silence except for the crunch of apple, turn of page, or random muttered comment from Zeb. After nearly an hour, boot heels trod the hardwood floor. Allie’s gaze rose above her novel to see Jared stride down the central aisle. He had followed her for most of the day and feigned nonchalance every time her gaze met his, which was often since he wasn’t particularly