Willow curled up in the chair and took a bite of the apple she had picked up. She could hear her mother's voice tut-tutting her for not eating a full lunch, but Sheila Rosenberg would not understand that her daughter was busy. It was only forty-five minutes until Principles of Chemical Science met, and Willow had Physics I assignment due the next day, and Physics at MIT was not like Physics at SHS. Willow scribbled furiously with one hand while trying to eat her apple without dribbling. The problem set was time-consuming, but not brain-breaking.

"Hey, Willow, did you get the problem set for Chem Sci?" Sophia settled into the chair across the small end table. "Wow, great light here."

"Yeah." Willow glanced up, then returned to scribbling. "Did it yesterday afternoon."

"Way to keep your eye on the ball." Sophia was in the same Principles of Chemical Science section as Willow but a different Physics section. "What T-shirt do you think she'll wear today?"

Willow shrugged. "I think last week's Green Lantern will be hard to top."

"For sure." Sophia leaned over and looked at Willow's notebook. "Do you mind if I check my work against yours?"

"No." Willow reached into her backpack and pulled out two sheets of paper. "Here you go."

"Thanks. So, you divided the number of moles for both by the molar coefficient to get the limiting reactant. Okay, that's what I did." Sophia looked at her own work. "Let's see… twelve moles of FeO(s) plus 12 moles of AI(I) can produce… four moles of AI2O3(s).Yeah, that's what I came up with."

"Great minds think alike," Willow said and crunched down on her apple.

"Yeah, but it's good to see somebody else smart doing it the same way. Wisdom of crowds and all that."

Willow smiled to herself; back in Sunnydale, whenever anyone asked to look at her work, there was a 99.9% chance they wanted to copy it. Now, it was an exchange: she would probably check her work against Sophia's in Intro to Bio. "If you believe crowds."

"Hey." Sophia bounced her backpack on her lap. "Have you ever used MapQuest?"

"Yeah." Willow looked up from her work. "I've printed out directions from them."

Sophia leaned forward. "I heard a couple of guys at the dining hall saying that AOL is gonna buy it."

Willow shook her head. "Man, AOL's gonna own everything pretty soon."

"Yeah." Sophia lowered her voice. "Word on the street is that you guys had some excitement in your dorm this morning, on your floor specifically."

"The street?" Willow arched her eyebrows. "Are we Homicide now?"

Sophia did not take the bait. "Well?"

Willow sighed and put her pen down on the lined paper. "Some girls were in the bathroom when the mirror fogged up and something was written on it."

"What do you mean?" Sophia's face scrunched.

"Just what I said. They were doing sink stuff and one of the mirrors fogged over and words appeared."

Sophia's eyes got big. "And nobody was in there?"

Willow shook her head. "Nope. Just three girls brushing their teeth and one getting ready to shower."

"Wow. Like that story from the Bible."

Willow's mouth formed a perfect 'O'. "You mean, like, in Daniel, the writing on the wall… Huh. I never thought of that."

Sophia shrugged. "Well, ten years of Sunday School."

Willow tapped a thumb on her sternum. "Eighteen years of synagogue. Rosenberg for the win."

Sophia curled her feet up under her. "So, what do you think happened?"

"I don't know. Tori thinks it might be a prank by one of the other floors." Willow picked up her pen.

"What did the writing say?"

The redhead favored her friend with a wry look. "It said 'I'm here'. Now, can I get back to tomorrow's assignment?"

Sophia's grin was completely captivating. "That's the most Willow Rosenberg thing ever said. Sure. I got an assignment for FC and P, anyway." She took out her notebook, then leaned over toward Willow, eyes gleaming. "But wouldn't it be cool if it was a ghost, I mean, after we went to the Common and everything?"

"Yeah." Willow kept her head down and bit her lip. "Cool."

"So, any questions? Yes." Dr. Jessica Potter pointed toward the back of the hall. Willow did not bother to turn around (that only resulted in a stiff neck), but she kept her ears open and her pen poised over her notebook.

"Yeah, okay, I know everybody will yell at me for this, but aren't 'good' and 'evil' just arbitrary categories? I mean, look, back in the day, people got sent to jail for running numbers, then the state found out how much money was involved and suddenly lotteries were legal."

"Ah, excellent point regarding changing standards, but I would point out that you shifted categories within your statement. You started by questioning 'good' and 'evil', then switched to 'legal' and 'illegal'." Dr. Potter planted her feet and put her hands in her pockets (which were attached to trousers of a spectacular Glen plaid suit of gray over lavender). "So, does 'legal' equal 'good'?" She raised her eyebrows and waited. "Yes?"

Willow lowered her hand. "Uh, no, because, just for instance, slavery was legal but it was- or I would say it was evil, even if it was legal."

"Nice example." It came out of Dr. Potter's mouth as 'ex-om-pull'. "Now, building on this concept, was the Third Reich evil?" A loud murmur swept the class. 'Ah, I see that most of us believe that the Nazis were the bad guys. Let me start by pointing out that the seizing of Jewish property and the establishment of the labor camps was all done legally. Then, riddle me this… the Third Reich was ostensibly science-based. Many of the most horrific tortures were justified as scientific experiments. Is that any defense for the behavior of these doctors and scientists?" A wave of negative energy rose and quested. "Yes," Dr. Potter said, "I see that hand."

"Didn't we keep a lot of the records of those experiments?"

"Ah, the scientists were condemned, but there is a wide range of opinion as to whether or not it is ethical to use the data gathered by them. Yes?"

"We took in a bunch of Nazi scientists after World War 2, like rocket scientists."

Dr. Potter smiled. "Ah, Operation Paperclip. Yes?"

"The Japanese camps were legal, right?"

"Excellent observations." Dr. Potter nodded briskly. "Now, to our original questioner, do you see how murky the issue quickly becomes if one substitutes 'legal' or 'illegal' for 'good' or 'evil'? Epistemologically, linguistically, and metaphysically, it's very important to keep those concepts clear and even somewhat separate. My goodness, where does the time go? I will see you next session."

Willow marveled at how the very air in Boston was different from Sunnydale. On a day like today, she might as well be on a different planet than the one where she grew up. The light slanted differently, there was a smell of salt and fish and ocean that she had never noticed back home, and the feeling of history all around her. A slight breeze ruffled her hair and she felt the small patch just above her left eye prickle. She still glanced at the spot in the mirror when she brushed her hair, still felt the tingle in the roots whenever her hand brushed across it, as though when the new hair grew in it went down as well as out. She knew it didn't look any different, knew that empirically, but she could not shake the feeling.

She was roused from her inner musings when someone brushed her shoulder as they rushed past her. Willow shook her head and looked up; a sizable group was gathering outside of the building just ahead of her. She could see the reflection of flashing lights in the parking lot behind the structure as she picked up her pace. She reached the fringes of the rough semicircle. "What happened?" she asked.

"Somebody fell down the stairs, or got pushed." A guy in a red and green flannel shirt stood on tiptoe to peer over the heads of the onlookers.

"Yeah," a girl to Willow's right said, "second floor landing."

"How do you know?" the redhead asked.

"I called the ambulance."

"Oh." Willow blinked in surprise. "You found her?"

"No, somebody else did, but I was in the lobby and heard scream and the thump, then they yelled for somebody to call the EMTs, so…" The girl shrugged. The crowd shuffled back as a Campus Police officer came out, waving for everyone to back up. He was followed by two EMTs manipulating a gurney. Willow couldn't make out any details other than that the victim was small, covered in a sheet, and had a cumbersome stabilization device strapped around their head. The gurney was wheeled around the corner toward the parking lot; the crowd oozed in that direction. Willow bit her lip and frowned. People falling down stairs wasn't that unusual, but in her experience…

"There was a scream?"

"Pretty loud one."

"Do you know how she fell?"

The girl shot Willow a glance, then went back to watching the EMTs. "I d'know, tripped, had a seizure, maybe…" Her voice trailed away, but Willow had already turned away and entered the building. The crowd could gawk at the ambulance: she had her own questions.

As she entered the building, she realized that there was a stairwell at each end, but then she also realized that she knew the one to the left was where the incident had taken place. She could not explain this; the closest analogy she could summon was the experience of listening to a stereo with the balance shifted slightly. One side was just that much louder. The stairwell was an open doorway; the steps were marble and fairly steep. Willow put a hand on the rail and started carefully up the stairs. She could hear voices on the landing above her. As she reached the top of the stairs, she came upon two Campus Police officers and two students. They all went silent and looked at her as she appeared. The tableau was frozen for an instant, framed in the light streaming in through the large windows.

"Can we help you?" one of the officers asked.

"Oh, no, I'm just on my way up to four." Willow pointed up.

"All right, just step around us and go on up." The officer waved vaguely in the direction of the stairs. Willow ducked her head and hurried up the steps, then paused.

"So, you didn't see the fall?"

"No." One of the students replied.

"I just heard her scream."

"Okay, no one else was here?"

"No, she was just lying there, so I guess no one else was around."

"You pass anybody in the hall, anybody coming from this stairwell?"

"Nope."

"Nothing, nothing unusual at all."

"Well…"

"What?"

"It was probably nothing…"

"Let us be the judge of that. What did you see?"

"Well, when I got here, I noticed that it was really cold, I mean, compared to the hall, so I looked around to see if maybe the window was open, which doesn't even make sense because it's not really that cold outside, but when I looked I thought I saw… You know how, when you're a kid, you breathe on a window and then write with your finger. You know, like draw a heart or something?"

"Yeah, I've done that a few times."

"Well, just for a minute, it looked like somebody had written on the window, but it was fading. It went away so fast, I'm not really sure I saw it."

"Okay, if something was written on the window, what was it?"

"I think it said… 'Listen'."

Willow frowned in concentration. 'I'm Here'? 'Listen'? She shook her head and hurried down the hall, whispering "No, no, no."

"Did you hear about what happened at Wiseman today?" Sophia stuffed her backpack under the chair and slung her jacket over the back.

"The girl who fell?" Willow nodded. "Yeah, I was outside."

"Back in a sec." Sophia was as good as her word; she reappeared quickly with a tray. "Cereal for lunch?"

"I like cereal." Willow demonstrated the truth of her statement by spooning in a mouthful.

"But… Froot Loops?"

Willow spoke around her chewing. "Don't be judgy."

"Lay-daze." Julian slid his tray onto the table. "What are you having?"

"Tuscan bean soup," Sophia replied. "You?"

"Uh, let's see… Tacos. And tacos. And tacos."

"Good grief, how many did you get?" Willow craned her neck to see his plate.

"I think… five. Yes, five." Lucian counted as the traffic in the dining hall hummed and eddied around them.

Willow swallowed. "How can you eat five tacos?"

"Hey, you expect me to choose either carne asada, carnitas, or the black bean? And they had shrimp. Shrimp, Willow. And that's before we even begin to explore the shell options. Besides, I don't think anyone who's detonating a sugar bomb has room to poo-poo my dining choices." Lucian raised an eyebrow; there was a noticeable pause. "Sorry to break the flow," he said. "I was waiting for a profane non sequitur."

"Quan's not here," Willow said. "Remember, she has that lunch seminar?"

"Yeah, that's right." Lucian took a bite out of his first taco. "Mmmm. Hey, you guys hear about what happened at Wiseman?"

"Willow was there." Sophia took in a spoonful of soup, followed by a bite of crusty bread.

Julian chewed and swallowed. "Really?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Right after. They were wheeling her out."

"Huh." JLucian inhaled the rest of his first taco.

Sophia stirred her soup with her spoon. "I heard there was something weird about it."

"Really? What?" Lucian picked up his second taco.

"I heard there was writing on the wall, but nobody could figure out what it meant." Sophia grinned and her eyebrows wiggled before she slurped up more soup.

"That's just silly," Willow said.

"Oh, come on." Sophia's eyes grew wide. "You said there was writing on the mirror in your dorm!"

"Huh? What?" Lucian stopped in mid-taco destruction.

"Oh my God!" Sophia's grin reached from ear to ear. "What if it is a ghost? Wouldn't that be awesome?"

"Sophia!" Willow's voice was several degrees sharper than she intended. "You're at- you're at MIT! One of the most science-y places on earth. It's not a ghost. There are no ghosts. None, nada, they don't exist."

The other girl drew back, a wounded look on her face. "I know. Come on, Willow. I know there aren't any ghosts. I just think it's fun to imagine."

"Well, we're next door to Salem, where they hanged women because of imagination." Willow scowled. "It's not all fun and gamesness."

"I'll say." Lucian wiped his mouth on a napkin. "Either of you ever read 'Half-Hanged Mary'. It's a poem by Margaret Atwood." Both young women swung their heads toward him. "Yeah, it's really good. It's about a woman, Mary Webster, who was hanged as a witch and lived, but the poem's all about how that was just an excuse, it was really about her being a woman who owned property." He bit into another taco. "Changed my life when I read it." Willow and Sophia stared at him. "What?" he said. "Just trying to lighten the conversation."

Sophia shook her head. "You are so weird sometimes."

"Aw," Lucian said as he took a drink of his soda, "I was shooting for all the time." He tapped a finger against his chin. "Although, given the nature of time-"

"Can it, Lucian," Willow said. "Quan's not here for you to annoy."

"Oh," Lucian replied, grinning, "she's not the only one I'm trying to annoy."

"Gaaaaah." Sophia rolled her eyes.

"But, really…" Lucian bit into his third taco "...it's not that hard to understand. People always come up with something to explain the unexplainable. I mean, in science, we say 'Assume X', because we have to have X for our equation to work, even if we can't really locate or define X."

"Yeah," Willow said. "Like the cosmological constant."

"Exactly." Lucian tapped the table and pointed at the redhead. "Exactly. We're always coming up against new ideas or forces or states and we give them a name to hold their place until we can precisely define or describe them, so if people talk about ghosts, maybe they're just trying to create a concept that allows them to hold something in their mind."

"Like what?" Sophia asked as she ran her bread around the bottom of her soup bowl.

"These incidents." Lucian held out a hand, palm up. "A couple of weird things have happened. There's no obvious explanation for them, so people start to talk about 'ghosts'. I don't think anyone actually believes ghosts are in the dorms, it's just a way of creating a space for processing the situation."

"I'm glad Quan's not here," Willow said. "I'm afraid to think of what she might say about that."

Sophia wrinkled her nose. "Pretty sure it would involve the word shit-uation."

Willow pursed her lips. "Almost certainly."

"So some asshole fell down the stairs. Now we're all supposed to be losing our shit?" Quan looked in the mirror and fluffed her hair. Willow was amazed; she was getting ready for bed, Quan was getting ready to hit a party she'd heard about over on Mass Ave.

"Don't call her… that. You don't know her." Willow yawned. "And they think she might have been pushed. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Anybody tries to step to me, I kung-fu their asses." Quan touched up her lipstick.

"Do you know kung-fu?"

Quan shook her head. "Not the point. The point is, nobody fucks with me."

"Does that include Derek?" Willow immediately regretted her words; Quan stiffened and her reflection in the mirror lost all bravado. "I'm sorry."

Quan shrugged and returned to her beauty routine. "It's all right, it's true. I don't know why I can't talk to the fucking idiot." She shrugged and her eyes in the mirror sought Willow's. "Maybe I should just cut to the chase and tell him I want to ride his baloney pony."

"Quan!" Willow gasped.

The small girl grinned. "That was a good one. Don't worry about me, I can fucking take it." She stepped away from the dresser and grabbed her puffy jacket. "Don't wait up for me, loser."

"I didn't plan to." Willow smiled. "Have a good time."

"Hey, you know my motto: 'We're not here for a long time, so let's have a good time'."

"That's your motto? Since when?"

"Since forever." Quan shrugged into her coat and took a step toward the door when a scream pierced the air.

"What's that?" Willow sat bolt upright.

"Didn't come from the showers." Quan said. "I think it came from downstairs. I'll check it on my way out."

Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. Willow rolled out of bed and threw on her robe and slippers. Quan had already disappeared in the flow of students rushing toward the stairs. The stairwell disgorged the crowd into the lobby, where a young woman sat on a bench flanked by two others. Willow recognized Tori Keating but did not know the other girl.

"Hey, everybody, let's back up a little, give some space, okay?" The first floor RA, a young man with a narrow face and heavy beard scruff, tried to herd the crowd. Willow drifted with the flow, but tried to keep her ears trained toward the frightened young woman and Tori.

"It was a face, looking in the window." The girl's breathing was fast and shallow.

"Hey, hey, Theresa, let's try to slow down. You don't want to hyperventilate and pass out." Tori patted Theresa's shoulder. "Lots of people go by, you probably just saw someone turning toward the window for a minute and it startled you."

"No. No." Theresa shook her head. "This wasn't anybody out on the sidewalk. It was a face outside the window, and it was creepy and weird."

"Creepy and weird? Can you tell me how?"

"It was just a face. I couldn't see a body."

Tori leaned in. "It's dark outside."

"No, I don't mean like that, I mean, there wasn't any body there, it was just a face, only…" Theresa's voice dissipated.

"Only what?" Tori prompted.

"It was a face, but I couldn't, I couldn't tell you what it looked like. I can't describe any of the features, it was just like, like an oval floating in the air and there were dark circles where the eyes would be and a line for a mouth." Theresa's face crumpled. "It sounds crazy, like it was a little kid's drawing of a face, but it was scary."

The features pale and washed out. Willow felt a shiver race up her spine. She turned toward the door in time to see Quan lift a hand in salute and slip out the door. Willow considered trying to get close to Theresa, to talk to her, but a Campus Police officer was buzzed into the lobby. Tori motioned him over and Willow knew there was no way to casually hang out now. She headed toward the stairs, glancing over her shoulder once to see the officer, pen in hand and notebook on his knee, talking to Theresa.