Much like two women on a mission, Ava and I had walked all the way from our dorm to the main campus. Currently, we were stationed before the entrance to an office with a name tag labeled:
PROFESSOR ADAM A. WORTH-MILLER
LECTURER & DIRECTOR OF UNDERGRADUATE STUDIES
DEPARTMENT OF PSYCHOLOGY
Watchfully, we monitored every activity that transpired outside the door. By the time we arrived, till now, not even a single soul had come in or gone out of his office, yet students had darted in front of it.
Being a pathological overthinker, my mental state began to crumble as my thoughts flashed back to Anna Fisher, a haunting missing person’s poster with her face on it, and memories of that night scourging my mind.
How do you possibly wake up with blood and mud all over you, with no memory of
