In the classroom

"She was here? In your classroom, the whole time?" Don demanded as Charlie leaned against his desk.

"I know it sounds weird, but she seemed to think another one of the students had framed her."

"Who?" Don asked, squinting.

"Sharron Rose. She's been in my class a while now. She used to sneak into my lectures, my best student." Charlie said and Don frowned.

"Well, you better explain what happened. Phoebe didn't attack her or anything?"

"No, she just suddenly appeared, apparently she'd been hiding under one of the desks." Charlie grimaced and looked down, "I was explaining her code. I couldn't understand this next step." He muttered and pointed at the board.

"Wow, you figured it out that far already? Our team has just gotten to the weird letters. They said it was 'clingy' something or another." Don said and Charlie rolled his eyes.

"Klingon. It's a fictional language created by Star trek."

"Ah, geek language." Don said and Charlie sighed, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"No, Don, she didn't actually write it in klingon, she spelled it in klingon." Charlie explained, "Anyways when I got to this step she said something before she left. 'Dino language', does that mean anything to you?" he asked, pointing to the corner where he wrote it on the board.

"No," Don frowned, "Maybe she means an old language." He suggested and Charlie looked at the writing, which now sat on the board.

tacawodkoh ad carhe to lodukhap

What did it mean? What on earth was she trying to say? And why was she in his classroom? Charlie wondered as he ran the phrase through another theorem, testing the possibility of something else.

"Don." He said quietly and his brother grunted.

"Huh?"

"I think . . . Phoebe might have been hurt." He said and Don looked up.

"Hurt? How so?"

"Yeah, her arm looked like it was at an odd angle. And why would she come back here if she were guilty?"

"Why would she run if she were innocent?" Don pointed out and Charlie glanced at his brother uneasily and don sighed, trying to smile. "Even so the faster we find her the better, especially if she's hurt." Charlie agreed, pretending he thought the same but looked back to the words.

What if she had just written down nonsense to keep them off her? What if it was all a hoax? He groaned and closed his eyes. There was no way he could possibly just give up now that this code was his.

He would solve it before Phoebe Weiland could attack someone again.

Somewhere on Campus

I was hurt, badly.

My wrist was broken. I knew because it had swollen twice its usual size, angled oddly and turned purple. I was sure I was coming down with a fever and had very nearly run into the cops more than a few times. Only sheer luck was keeping me on campus.

But I didn't leave campus.

How could I? I knew exactly where the girl who framed me was and what she would be doing, though I didn't know what she wanted. Why had she framed me? Was it just coincidence? Why did she attack Roxi? Was it also coincidence or was there a reason? And why didn't she attack the date? Was he the reason for the attack? I hissed as I spun out of the way of the cops walking down the hall, bumping into another teacher.

"Oh, I beg your pardon." He said. His hair was curly and he slouched. In his hands was a sheet of paper with scribbles of writing all over it.

"Ah, no problem." I mumbled, trying to hide my arm. He glanced at it and gaped.

"Oh my!" he gawked raising a hand to his mouth. "That looks bad. Perhaps you should see someone about that." He mumbled and widened his eyes. "Did I do that?" he asked blubbering apologies before I could explain. I laughed shaking my head like it was nothing.

"No, I just fell out of a tree." I said gesturing to my arm. "I'll be fine."

"Well, let me escort you to the nurses office." He insisted and I pulled away.

"No!" I shouted and he raised his eyebrows. He looked nice, a little like a pushover but nice. His face looked genuinely worried and he was holding a wad of papers in his hands that he shoved under his arms quickly.

"That's at least broken. You need to see someone about it." He said and I grimaced.

"I can't. It's embarrassing. Can't someone get it looked at without me hafting to go to the nurse or anything?" I whispered and he laughed.

"Well, I do know someone who might be able to help, but can we stop by my friends office first? I have to give him this." The new professor asked and I squinted at the writing.

"What does it say?" I asked, after walking with him for a few minutes, still hiding my arm. It throbbed and hurt like hell when I tried to move it, but I didn't want anyone else noticing.

"Oh, well, it's kind of boring, to be perfectly honest."

"Well, can you tell me anyways?" I smiled and he laughed.

"You see, it's a code." He said pointing at the paper. "It originally started out as the numbers here," he pointed at the numbers at the top of the paper and I stared. My numbers.

Crap. I thought wincing. I couldn't run with my arm like this. However his face said he didn't suspect anything.

"Boring right?" he laughed and I smiled politely.

"Ah, not really. But I don't understand it anyways. How far have you gotten?"

"Not too far. Here's what we have now, but my friend called me to his office because he said he had a breakthrough. You know professor Charles Eppes?" He asked as he pointed to the bottom line of text and I shook my head.

"Never had him."

"Ah, well he's a math genius. His brother, who works for the FBI, sometimes asks him to help out on cases using math." He said and I raised my eyebrows.

"Cool." I said, my voice shaking a little.

That's why the FBI agent was there. He didn't really find me; he was going to see his brother. I knew I heard the name Eppes recently. Praising my newfound knowledge we arrived at the place I had just been at, the broken window on our right and the door to the classroom on our left.

"Oh my," the new professor said, "What happened here?" he whispered poking a shard of glass.

"I don't know." I said a little too quickly and he raised his eyebrows.

"You okay, miss . . ."

"Ah, I'm Stephanie McMaster." I said, thinking of any name I could. Stephanie was a good friend of mine, and a robotics major. If they looked into her they might get some info on my hideout. Shit. "And I'm fine, just a little shaken." I added, trying to smile, but my head was killing me. My arm was throbbing and I was pretending everything was fine. "That looks like it was shot or something."

"Hello Stephanie McMaster," he smiles and stuck out his hand, "I'm Professor Larry Fleinhart." He smiled, "Anyways, this is the classroom." He said, pulling away from the window and starting to head into the class.

"I'll just wait here." I muttered nervously, "Don't think I'm welcome." I laughed and he smiled, kindly but not truly. It was more of a pity smile.

"Don't worry, they won't mind." I glanced at the window and shook my head. I couldn't run, and I definitely couldn't jump out the window again. It was a miracle I survived the first time. "I'll just wait." I smiled, "Really, I wouldn't feel comfortable." Larry gave me another pity smile and went inside, and I turned and trotted away. It was the fastest I could go with my arm banged up like it was. I glanced behind me nervously and turned the corner out of sight just as I heard the door open. I pressed against the wall and strained to hear.

"You're sure her arm was broken? Tallish? Blonde hair, wavy?" that one sounded like Charles Eppes.

"Yes I'm sure. She said her name was Stephanie." That must have been Larry. There was the tinkle of glass, I presume because they were checking if I had jumped again.

"Damn, she's good." That voice was deeper and huskier, which probably meant Don Eppes, the other brother.

"She's not that good." Charlie whined.

"You know, her arm was pretty badly hurt." Larry pointed out and there was silence that followed. "I mean she wouldn't risk jumping out the window again on a third story building with a broken arm and a few cuts."

Cuts? I wasn't cut, was I? I examined myself more closely, noticing a cut on my palm and realizing my forehead had a thin scratch, which wasn't bleeding much, but it still hurt now that I had noticed it. There was a loud tap on the floor and I glanced sideways. Nothing yet, but they must have realized I was down here. I slowly crept forward, hoping I was being as quiet as possible, and reaching for the door.

I have to make it. I thought grimacing.

I got to the door, opening it as quietly as I could and slipping in, shutting it in the same silent manner.

Darkness enveloped me and I slumped against the wall, heart pounding. I reached up and locked the door slowly, hoping it wouldn't click. It didn't and I sighed, forcing myself to breath deep so my heart would slow down.

I awoke when there was a sharp rattle at the door.

"Locked again." Grumbled a voice. "These dumb kids keep locking the door on me." I panicked and dodged sideways, hoping to find somewhere to hid, but only ran straight into a wall. I tried the other side, only to realize I was in the janitor's closet. I panicked and hid behind the shelf, piling mops and other assortments of materials over me as the lock clicked quietly and the door opened. In walked the school Janitor, or one of them. He looked over the closet and sighed, rubbing his weathered face in annoyance.

"Those damn genius kids can't get enough of locking the door on me." He muttered and grabbed the bucket and reached for one of the mops I was hiding behind.

I froze, not daring myself to even breathe as he pulled one of the many mops out from the corner. The other five shifted and one smashed into my broken wrist before settling against my shoulder. My mouth snapped open but I was in so much pain no scream came out. The Janitor filled up the bucket with the sink in the closet while I threw my head back, cradling my arm as best as I could without making any noise. Pain was overriding my senses and I jammed my good fist into my mouth to keep the screams muffled.

As the Janitor left the closet he continued down the hallway and I heard the wheels of the mop bucket fade away. I exploded from my hiding place, grabbing a towel and jamming the whole thing in my mouth as I screamed. The towel dampened the noise really well, but at the same time giving me the relief I needed to clutch my arm.

After a good ten minutes of screaming into the towel I removed it and used it to wrap my bent wrist, gingerly. It still hurt like hell, but the pain was dull once again. I threw the towel into the dirty clothesbasket sitting on the shelf and exited the closet, glancing around the hallway before continuing on my way.

I have to find someone to set my wrist before I can investigate any further. I thought and tried to remember who it was I knew with a medical sciences major.

"Shit. It hurts." I hissed through my teeth as I passed a group of students laughing amongst themselves.

Charlotte? No, she was a mathematics major. Sabrina? Yes, wait no, she was only a first year nursing major. She probably didn't really know how to set and splint an arm, but she was my second choice if it came down to it. Tyler? He was always talking about being a doctor, but I was sure he got weak in the knees at the sight of blood and guts.

Julius? I think it was him. Maybe. Shit I couldn't think with all this pain. I passed another group of students, this time my eyes met with Kelsey, and her eyes went wide. Her friends continued to walk, laughing, oblivious to me as our eyes connected through the air. Her black hair cascaded over her shoulders and her equally black eyes gleamed in the light, full of fear and dread. I could practically see the gears turning in her head. She opened her mouth to gape at me for a moment then snapped it shut. She knew I would never hurt Roxi, but I could see the debate going on in her mind, her eyes glancing up and down to try and search for the answer in the air.

Trust me. I mouthed. I tried to give her a pleading expression but she didn't seem to care, lost in thought on whether to turn me in or not. I knew my expressions were never good, I could read faces as though I could read minds, but I was too unpracticed to actually look like I was pitiful, but her eyes finally fell onto my arm. I saw the horror fly over her face and her eyes came back up to meet mine.

Trust me. I mouthed again as the group continued to move on without her and she glared at me. She thought for another moment before she waved me away, trotting to catch up with her group.

"Thank you." I whispered as she passed me and she froze.

"You better find out who really attacked Roxi, or I'll turn you in faster than you can read my face." She growled and I nodded as she ran off.

I knew Kelsey was like that, she loved attention, but she was also fair and she cared for Roxi. I sprinted down the hallway, heading towards Julius's room. If I had one chance at this I had to be at my best.