Tessy's POV
*Unknown number: 1 missed call*
My breath began to falter as I hesitantly clicked on the notification.
My phone chimed. *Unread message*
"Hi Tessy, it's Sarah. Save my number. Would you like to come along? Marcus and I are going to Glenn. Apparently, he has a friend there and I decided to tag along."
I hissed in frustration. What a bad timing. I got down from my car and walked into the house.
I left Trenton for Brookland because of travel distance. The neighbors here were nosy and a bit friendly. Mrs. Gable from across the street was on her porch, pretending to water plants that were already dripping. She watched me unlock my door without waving. I didn't wave back.
My apartment was a bungalow. The entire neighborhood was an array of bungalows and condos. I dropped my keys on the side table. It was the one my sister had painted a terrible galaxy swirl on when we were kids. The sight of it now was a physical ache.
I sat on the couch, feeling stupid. The fabric was scratchy. I decided to call Robert but realized I didn't even have his contact. Smart, Tessy. Real smart.
Jones first. Call Jones.
I found his number, and pressed dial. It rang but there was no response. It was strange for Jones to not pick a call on the first ring. I tried again but an automated voice cut in: "The number you have dialed is unreachable. Please try your call again later."
The sound was a cold splash. I was getting anxious.My thumb was sweaty against the screen. I decided to call mom next.
She picked up after the fourth ring, and I could hear the soft whir of the mixer in the background.
"Hey Mom."
"Tessy? Is everything alright?" The mixer stopped.
"Yeah. Just… if Detective Jones comes by, tell him to call me. It's important."
"Did something happen?" I could sense worry in her voice. I hated to make her feel stressed.
"He was here yesterday, actually. Brought a box of those awful powdered donuts. He asked about you."
My curiosity piqued."What did he say?"
"Just how you were settling in. If you'd mentioned anything… new." She paused. "He looked tired, Tessy. More than usual."
My skin prickled. He was checking in before the call. "Did he leave anything? A note?"
"No. Just the donuts. Why? What's going on?"
"Nothing. Just tell him to call me the second you see him, okay?"
I hung up before she could ask more. I stared at my dark TV screen, seeing my own pale reflection.
The following week was Labor Day weekend. A long break from the internship. The air at work had been tense all week. People huddled in cubes and spoke in lower voices than the regular.
I'd seen Dr. Aris once, storming down the hall with a data pad, his face like stone. I'd overheard two guys at the cafeteria mentioning "Astraeus" and "simulation lag," but they'd shut up when they felt their voices were loud.
I added asked my colleagues if they noticed anything different but they both seemed oblivious.
When Sarah brought up Glenn again on Thursday, leaning over my cubicle wall with her too-bright smile, I said yes before I could think.
"How are we paying for flights?" I asked. Cleveland was far.
Sarah shrugged, popping a piece of gum. "My dad. He's got miles stacked up from his old job at Johnson. He was a Flight Director. Big wig. He says it's no problem and considers it an 'investment in the next generation' or whatever." She rolled her eyes, but affectionately.
I didn't argue. A free ticket to Ohio was fine. I had nothing to lose plus it was the holidays.
The flight from D.C. to Cleveland was just under two hours, but with the drive and security, the whole trip ate up most of the morning.
With Marcus buried in a technical manual and Sarah scrolling through social media, I pretended to sleep, running the questions I couldn't ask over and over in my mind.
The air in Cleveland was heavier and humid. The Glenn Research Center looked different from HQ—less glass, more low, brick buildings spread out like a campus and quieter.
We were walking from the visitor lot, following Marcus's directions to meet his friend at the propulsion lab. Sarah was talking about architecture and Marcus was correcting her blunders. I was busy with Spotify, following them from behind.
I turned my head, just a casual glance toward the road.
I noticed a plain dark sedan, parked across the street, away from the other cars. No one getting in or out.
The driver's window was down a crack, and I could see the vague shape of a man facing our direction.
My breath caught, Kendrick's voice drifting away.
"Tessy?" Sarah's voice cut through. She followed my look. "What is it?"
"Nothing," I said, forcing my feet to keep moving, facing forward. "Thought I saw something."
I was certain we were being watched.
We reached the main entrance, a set of heavy glass doors. Marcus's friend was waiting. He was a lanky guy with a buzz cut and a security badge already clipped to his belt.
As we went in, I risked looking through to glass door to confirm my hunch, but the sedan was gone.
I stood, bemused, thinking I had imagined it all. But the feeling, the strange feeling of being watched was unsettling. I couldn't have imagined that.
"You coming, Tessy?" Sarah called from ahead, holding a door open.
"Yeah," I said, and caught up.
Marcus's friend led us down a wide corridor. The floors were a speckled gray tile, the walls a clean off-white. Every few feet there was a framed photo of a rocket test or a plaque with names and dates.
We passed an open office door. Inside, a woman was at a computer, her back to us. Her hair was up in a messy bun and for one stupid, heart-stopping second, it looked like Emma's hair. I stopped walking.
"Tessy?" Marcus said, a few steps ahead now.
The woman turned her head, glancing at the doorway. It wasn't her. Of course it wasn't. The face was older, the eyes different.
"Sorry," I mumbled, my face getting hot. "Thought I dropped something."
I pretended to check my pocket and kept walking.
Marcus's friend was talking about the propulsion lab's schedule. "Most of the senior staff are out today or tied up with the Astraeus briefings. It's kind of a ghost town."
Astraeus. The word from the cafeteria. I wanted to ask what the briefings were for, but I bit my tongue. Don't sound too eager.