RESURRECTED Read Online Free PDF Page A

That freaked her out more than anything. After all, she didn’t remember writing any of it. And yet, as she read it, pieces of it seemed to come back to her, in some vague part of her consciousness.
    When Caitlin had finally come down from the attic, it had been late morning and the house was empty, Scarlet already gone to school, and Caleb already long gone to work. She was supposed to be at work herself hours ago, and hadn’t even called in. She’d been in a daze, had lost all sense of time and place. The only one to greet her had been Ruth, and Caitlin, in a daze, had merely walked past her, out the door, to her car, and had taken off, the journal still in hand.
    Caitlin knew there was only one person in the world she could turn to for answers. And she needed answers now, more than ever. She couldn’t stand to have something unsolved, and she would stop at nothing until she’d figured it out. She sped down the highway, racing down the Taconic Parkway towards New York City, hands still shaking. There was only one man in the world, she knew, who would know what to make of this—only one mind more brilliant than hers when it came to rare books and antiquities. He was the only one who could explain the deepest truths of history, of religion, of the esoteric. Aiden.
    Her old college professor, her mentor throughout her undergraduate and graduate degrees at Columbia, Aiden was the one man she trusted and respected more than any man in the world. He was also the one man she considered to be her true father. The most venerated professor of antiquities and esoteric studies at Columbia, the shining star of the archaeological faculty, Aiden was the greatest scholar they’d ever had. If Caitlin ever encountered any rare book or piece of history or antiquity that left her stumped, Aiden was the one she could call. He always had an answer for everything.
    She knew he would have an answer for this book, a scholarly way to explain it away that would both make her feel better and make her wonder why she hadn’t thought of it. And he would do it with grace and charm, in a way that didn’t make her feel stupid. In fact, knowing that he would have the answer was the only thing that kept her from losing her mind as she sped down the highway.
    Caitlin trembled with anticipation as she reached Manhattan, speeding down the West Side Highway, over to Broadway, and parking right in front of the entrance to Columbia. She parked on Broadway, in a no parking zone, but was too preoccupied to notice. She was hardly aware of her surroundings, hardly aware that she had left the house still wearing pajama pants, flip-flops and an old sweater, her hair undone.
    Caitlin jumped out of the car, snatched the journal, and ran through the gates of Columbia, stumbling on the uneven, brick-lined walkway. She hurried through the campus, and turned and ran up the wide, stone steps, taking them three at a time. She raced across the wide stone plaza, found the building she knew Aiden would be in, flew up the steps, through double doors, down a tiled corridor, up another flight of steps, down another corridor, and right to his classroom. She didn’t even think to knock, didn’t even stop to consider he might be teaching. She wasn’t in her right state of mind. She just opened the door and walked right in, as if she were still an undergrad.
    She stopped, mortified. Aiden was standing there, at his blackboard, holding a piece of chalk—
    and the classroom was filled with about 30 graduate students, who all turned and stared.
    “And the reason why the archetypical differences between the Roman and Greek values weren’t considered—”
    Aiden suddenly stopped lecturing, stopped writing on the chalkboard. He turned and looked.
    The graduate students all stopped typing on their laptops and stared at Caitlin, too, looking her up and down. Suddenly, she realized where she was, what she was wearing.
    She stood there like a deer in headlights, mortified. She