THE PROFESSOR'S DIRTY CLAIM
But I could feel her presence cold, suffocating, like the air before a storm breaks.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“You’re wondering how much I knew about Emily’s final moments.”
I didn’t answer. I didn't need to. She continued anyway.
“She called me that night. Panicked. Said Voss had given her something said it burned going down. She was crying, begging me to come get her. I told her to stay calm. That I was on my way.” Thornton’s voice remained even, clinical. “I arrived twenty-three minutes later. Voss was gone. Marcus had already cleaned the scene wiped surfaces, staged the needle. Emily was on the floor, barely breathing. Pupils pinpoint. Foam at the mouth. She reached for me. Whispe