Treatment 265
Chapter <b>241 </b>
I was in the middle of analyzing some encrypted data on myptop when a solt thud caught my attention. Looking down, I saw a tennis ball at my feet and the Doberman–formerly known as Zach–sitting expectantly in front of me, his tall wagging enthusiastically against
the foot.
“Not now, Captain,” I said, nudging the ball away with my foot. “I’m working.”
The dog tilted his head, <b>brown </b>eyes staring at me with unwavering determination. He nudged the ball closer with his nose.
“Captain?” Ethan’s voice came from the kitchen doorway. He leaned against the frame, coffee mug in hand, eyebrows raised in amusement. “You <b>renamed </b>the dog?”
I kept my eyes on the screen. “It’s less confusing this way.”
“How thoughtful of you,” <b>Ethan </b>said, his tone somewhere between teasing and genuinely impressed. “You’re really looking out for Zach s feelings.”
<b>“</b>It was getting annoying,” I exined, finally looking up. “Whenever I called for Zach, both of them would respond. The human one wasn’t too happy about sharing his name with a dog.”
Ethan chuckled, taking a sip of <b>his </b>coffee. “I can imagine.”
Captain whined softly, still focused on the tennis <b>ball</b>. I sighed, closing myptop. My eyes had been staring at the screen for too long anyway, and though they were healing well, I didn’t want to push it.
“Fine,” I conceded, picking up the ball. “One throw, then I’m getting back to work.”
The afternoon air was crisp <b>as </b>Captain, <b>Zach</b>, and I walked through the residential area near Princeton University. My vision had improved significantly I could now make out details within about fifteen feet, though anything beyond <b>that </b>remained slightly blurred. It was good enough for walking without assistance, which was a relief.
I noticed how Zach asionally nced at Captain, his expression no longer showing the disdain <b>he’d </b>initially <b>had </b>for the dog. Progress, I supposed.
As we neared the university grounds, something–or rather, someone–caught my eye. <b>A </b>tall, thin figure with unusually pale <b>skin </b>stood near the entrance to the science building. There was something familiar about him, but with my vision still not at a hundred percent, I couldn’t make out his features clearly.
“What is it?” <b>Zach </b>asked<b>, </b>instantly alert.
“Nothing,” I said calmly, continuing to walk.
The ssroom buzzed with energy as I <b>walked </b>in the next morning, Conversations paused momentarily as heads turned in my direction, then resumed with increased vigor. I caught fragments of whispers as I made my way to my usual seat in the back row by the window.
“She’s back…
heard she was in Spain…”
…with Ethan Hasion…”
I ignored them <b>all</b>, setting my bag down and taking out my notebook. The familiar routine felt strange after everything that had happened, but also grounding in its own way,
Professor Smith entered, silencing the chatter with his presence. He scanned the room, his gazending on me.
“Miss Morgan,” he <b>said</b>, a smile spreading across his face. “Wee back<b>. </b>I hope you’re feeling better?”
I nodded. “Thank you, Professor.”
He seemed satisfied with my response and began the ss, discussing the assignments that had been submitted during my absence. To my surprise, he pulled up a PowerPoint presentation on the projector.
“This is an exceptional piece of work,” he announced, gesturing to the title slide that hore my name. “Miss Morgan’s analysis of market fluctuations in emerging economies is graduate–level work. Jade, would you minding up to talk us through your approach?”
The ss turned to look at me, excitement evident on their faces. I suppressed a sigh and <b>made </b>my way to the front. Standing beside the projector, I had to lean closer to see the details on the screen–my vision was still slightly blurred for distant objects.
“The analysis uses a multi–variable approach,” I began, keeping my exnation brief and technical. I walked through the key points quickly, not borating more than necessary. The bright light from the projector was ufortable for my eyes, which still felt sensitive after the <b>chemical </b>exposure.
“Thank you,” I concluded after just a few minutes, ready to return to my seat.
“Is that all?” Professor Miller asked, looking disappointed. “Your methodology is fascinating. Perhaps you could exin how you developed the predictive <b>model</b>?”
“Actually,” I said, looking at the expectant faces of my ssmates, “I didn’t make this.”
A confused murmur spread through the room.
“Mr. Haxton did,” I rified, seeing no reason to lie. “Hepleted the assignment while I was recovering
The ssroom erupted into excited whispers. Professor Miller looked momentarily taken aback b
but <b>quickly </b>regained hisposure.
“Well, that’s… unexpected,” he said. “But still impressive. Please extend mypliments to Mr. Haxton.”
I nodded and returned to my seat, aware of the heightened <b>interest </b>from my ssmates. A girl with curly blonde hair leaned over from
the desk beside mine.
“Ethan Haxton did your homework?”
she a
asked, eyes wide. “Are you two<b>, </b>like, together?”
“Let’s focus on the ss,” I replied coldly.
12:03 Sat, <b>Sep </b><b>27 </b>
A
“Come on,” she persisted, undeterred by my tone. “just a litle Info? it doesn’t have to be about your rtionship. His life, his work, anything—we’re all dying to know,”
I sighed. “His life is orderly, his work is detailed. There’s nothing particrly Interesting to share,”
Before she could press further, Professor Miller called for attention. “For our next presentation, Fil like to hear from our newest student.” He gestured to the back corner of the room. “Mr. Murphy, would you please share your group’s findings?”
A young man in thest row stood up but <b>didn’t </b>move toward the front. One of his group members spoke up. “Sir, Ss doesn’t <b>have </b>aputer yet, and he’s not familiar with PowerPoint.”
“I see,” Professor Miller nodded understandingly. “Well, perhaps next time. You can observe today, Mr. Murphy.”
The new student–Ss–sat back down, reaching for his notebook. As he did, he seemed to sense my gaze on him. He looked up, meeting <b>my </b>eyes briefly with <b>a </b>puzzled expression before returning his attention to the front of the ss.
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