Chapter Eighteen
The next day I can’t seem to focus. The numbers swim in front of my eyes. The worst part of this is not knowing whether I’m actually making headway. There are an infinite number of possibilities with even this bottom row, and I won’t know whether I’ve hit the right one until I try it. Maybe not even then, if I don’t recognize the message. This might not even be a message. Just random numbers meant to drive me insane.
I fumble through my tote bag to find my phone. It’s almost out of battery, so I plug it into the wall before dialing Smith College’s main number.
“Dr. Stanhope please,” I tell the operator.
The phone rings, and for a moment I think he must be out of his office. It’s the weekend so it’s hit-or-miss whether he’d be there. He works on his research nonstop, bu
