City of Mist

"Well, it's nice to meet you... Miss? I'm sorry, it just feels like I'm talking to a pallette swapped Carmen San Diego." Carla looked at the card, shrugged, and tucked it into her back pocket, "Still, anything that can help find Emily. I'm worried about her."

"Yeah, the last time I saw her was like Monday morning, before class, but she wasn't herself. She'd been weird all weekend. Scared, anxious, spooked. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but she just kept telling me 'Nothing's wrong,' but she said it in the way that you know something's wrong, they just aren't ready to tell you." The black girl shrugged, "I dunno. I just gave her space, figured she'd tell me when she was ready."

"Then, on Monday, she's all happy and relaxed. I mean, it was weird. She's never like bubbly. It was like, and you'll need to pardon me, but it was like she'd gotten a really good dicking down the night before. The sort of sex that pops your back, you know?" She rubbed the back of her neck, "Trick is, Emily is, as far as I ever knew, asexual. Never showed an interest in guys or girls. I just have a bad feeling, like she got caught up with something. Especially since she hasn't been to class all week."

The pregnant woman /clearly/ didn't get the Bilbah reference, but probably though she'd just misheard whatever Victoria was trying to say. She waved, "Thanks for visiting," as the midwife left.


Regardless of how Victoria contacted Global Genetics, she'd get the same answer. 'We're sorry. We cannot, for confidentiality reasons, give out any information on our clients, or even if someone is our client. I'm sure you understand. However, if you'd like to schedule a consultation, we'd be happy to discuss your Genetic Future.'


Emily's classwork was accurate, but demonstrated no real passion. She did the work, did it well, but there was no personality, no spark. And there was no real change in quality. No trend beyond a general sense that she wasn't all that invested in the class.

Mr. Jenkins arched an eyebrow at the young woman standing before him. "I am aware of Emily, yes, although she hasn't been to class all week. Who are you, why do you want to see her work, and do you know why Emily hasn't been coming to class?" Mr. Jenkins was a white man in his mid forties with a mustache and black hair that had already started turning salt and pepper. He was curiously still pretty fit, and was know to ride his bike to and from work.

Carla looked pretty uncomfortable. "Emily didn't like to talk about her home life, but apparently, her mom raised her alone and passed away from cancer a few years back. It was really sad, because Emily had found an experimental treatment, but they couldn't find a way to pay for it. It really broke her up. She didn't really get close to anyone after that. I tried to get her out there, but she was always doing her own thing."

Shaking her head, Carla answered, "She really didn't have much money. She had a work study in the sociology department. Some sort of data mining, I think. It sounded boring. She'd hit up thrift stores and goodwill for clothes. I would buy her undies for the holidays. She was a great roommate. She'd help with homework, never fussed if I had a guy over. I'm really worried about her."

Miss Ash spotted the rich guy moving through the lobby toward an exit. He was conspicuously nondescript.

"I suppose not." Carla shrugged a bit. "Of course, her door is locked. I had the RA come by just to check she wasn't in there. I'm not sure how much you can get out of the common room."

If Miss wanted, Carla would escort her up to the dorm room and let her look around.

There was someone at the RA's desk, but they weren't really paying attention to anything going on in the lobby. They were either texting or playing a game on their phone while listening to their headphones.

"Running out of what?" The girl replied, not really sure what Miss meant. As she took Miss upstairs to the room that was described earlier in thread, she said, "If you need, I could go see if my RA is in."

"Midwifery?" The professor replied in a surprised tone, eyebrows arching. He accepted the hand and gave it a shake, clearly regarding her. "You strike me as young for a midwife, not to mention an instructor."

He shook his head, "Regardless, it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Booth. I am uncertain what you hope to find in her work, but I can give you access to the drive I store the student's assignments in, so long as your instructor credentials are up to date."

The professor did a bit of a doubletake, noticing the deliberate crossing and recrossing of the legs. Arching an eyebrow, he tilted his head to the side and regarded her levelly. "Are you flirting with me, Miss Booth? I typically find with a young woman who appears less than half my age is flirting with me, it's a deliberate choice. Are you trying to make me more pliant, or are you legitimately interested in older men? Do try to answer honestly. I've had a great deal of experience determining when someone is trying to lie to me."

"You're avoiding my questions, Ms. Booth, which is an answer in its own fashion, I suppose." He got out his laptop from a case beside his desk and started it up. Quickly, he checked her credentials, then gave her access to the drive he stored the student's work on. It was a shared drive, so the department grad students could grade them. "There, I've given you access to the folder with her graded homework. You should be receiving an email momentarily with the link."

"I think, you might be a bit young for me, Miss Booth. I prefer my women a bit more seasoned. I doubt the two of us could have a good dinner conversation. Not to imply I feel you're intellectually inferior. We simply have different life experiences." Perhaps more similar than the professor believed. Not that he'd know that.

"Still, if you want to try to prove me wrong, I'm not opposed to taking risks." He wrote his cell number on the back of a business card and slid it across the desk to her. I do hope you find the girl. She was a good student."