The flickering fluorescent lights of the lab hummed, a sound that usually comforted Elias. Now, they were a grating, uneven rhythm against the sudden, hollow ache in his chest. He clutched the note, the crisp paper crinkling in his sweaty hand. “Gone fishing. Good luck, kid.” That was it. No explanation, no warning. His mentor, Dr. Anya Sharma, just…vanished. He paced the sterile floor, his shadow stretching and shrinking with the changing light. Each step felt heavy, like wading through molasses.
He reread the note again, as if the words might rearrange themselves into a different, less abrupt message. A tremor ran through him. What if he’d done something wrong? Was this some kind of punishment? He found himself automatically checking the protocols, double-checking his equipment, as though an error he hadn’t perceived would bring back her. The quiet of the lab seemed to press in on him, a stifling blanket.
He started, hearing a faint click. The door to the storage room was slightly ajar, a small, dark maw in the wall. The thought of something, anything, lurking within that blackness made him involuntarily take a breath. His heart was hammering. He had to know if she had left anything behind. He had to. He pushed the door open, his fingers suddenly numb.