Read Online Don't Look Now by Michelle Gagnon - Free Book Online Page A

her; she never procrastinated, in fact she usually turned work in early. But lately, she’d found it hard to focus.
    With effort, she typed a sentence, then another. Good , she thought with relief. The coffee was working. Now if she could just write the final few pages, she’d be able to get some sleep. . . .
    “Amanda? Are you okay?”
    Amanda blinked. She was still sitting at the computer, her hands on the keyboard. Her roommate, Diem, was looking down at her with concern while she towel-dried her long dark hair.
    “Yeah, I’m fine. Must’ve just drifted off for a minute,” Amanda mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “What time is it?”
    “Nearly nine o’clock,” Diem said.
    Amanda jolted upright and checked the clock in the corner of her computer screen. “What?” Her heart leapt into her throat. Class started in five minutes, and she hadn’t finished the paper. Frantically, she scrolled through the Word doc, and frowned.
    “What’s wrong?” Diem asked. She was a tiny Vietnamese-American girl whose enormous eyes always reminded Amanda of an anime character. She bent over to study the screen. “Wow, what’s that?”
    “I don’t know,” Amanda said, her panic increasing. There were words on the screen, but they were a nonsensical jumble: bird, hat, tree, car . . . on and on, a string of basic words that made no sense.
    “Your professor is going to love that.” Diem laughed, but not unkindly. “Maybe you should just skip class.”
    “I can’t,” Amanda mumbled. “I’ve already missed too many this semester.”
    “Well, just tell her your computer crashed. That got me an extension on my poli-sci midterm.”
    “Right,” Amanda said faintly, still staring at the words. They went on for page after page, ten of them total. Yet she had no memory of writing them. Maybe she’d done it in her sleep? Was that even possible?
    “Hey.” Diem laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s just a paper.”
    “I know, it’s just . . .” Amanda unexpectedly burst into tears, astonishing herself. What was happening to her?
    Diem pulled her into a hug. Amanda leaned against her and wept while Diem stroked her hair. They weren’t particularly close roommates; they were friendly enough, but Diem spent a lot of time at her boyfriend’s dorm, and they basically just shared the space. After a minute Amanda drew back, feeling awkward. “Thanks,” she muttered, wiping away tears.
    “Listen, maybe you should go to the infirmary.”
    “Why? I’m not sick.” Amanda looked up. Diem was eyeing her with concern.
    “Well, you just seem . . . different lately,” Diem said hesitantly. “Out of it. Maybe they can help.”
    “I’m fine,” Amanda snapped. “I better get to class.”
    “Me too—I’ve got an inorganic chem midterm today, and I barely studied.” As she walked over to her dresser, Diem called over her shoulder, “Good luck!”
    Amanda pushed the chair back and stood, trying to organize her thoughts. No time to change; she’d just wear the same outfit to class. She tugged on her jacket and grabbed her keys, stuffing them into her pocket as she tore out of the room.
    As the door closed behind her, she heard her roommate say, “She is definitely not okay.”

CHAPTER
FOUR
    P eter blew on his fingers to warm them, wishing he’d thought to bring a pair of gloves. It was a cold morning—despite staying up late the night before, he’d forced himself out of bed right after dawn so that he could beat the rush hour traffic into Boston.
    He was quickly developing an appreciation for cops on stakeouts. On TV they complained a lot, but usually seemed to be having a pretty good time hanging out and snacking.
    So far, he’d found it to be a miserable experience. He was parked in front of an apartment building on Newbury Street, in one of the toniest neighborhoods in Boston. Finding a parking space close to the entrance had been a