Free The MORE Trilogy by T.M. Franklin Page A

there.” Ava ran up the stairs and slipped quietly into a seat in the back of the full lecture hall, avoiding the professor’s gaze. As she turned over the stapled pages lying facedown on her desk, all thoughts of her mysterious rescuer faded to the background, and she focused on her physics quiz, knowing she’d have to answer Caleb’s own questions later that evening.

    After class, Ava made her way to the campus security office, swallowing nervously before walking through the swinging glass door. She scanned the large, empty room, from the cracked linoleum to the dropped ceiling, stained in the center from an obvious leak at some point in the past. Ava wasn’t sure if she should be reassured that there was apparently not enough crime on campus to require a more impressive police force, or worried that perhaps her situation might be better dealt with by the city police. She’d called them, though, and had been told the campus police had jurisdiction.
    Ava approached the front desk, pressing the button on a small bell, the sharp ding echoing off the walls. After a moment, a uniformed officer appeared in the doorway at the rear of the room, wiping his hands on a napkin as he approached the desk.
    “Sorry about that,” he said. “Lunch break. What can I do for you?”
    Ava licked her lips. “I . . . uh . . . need to report something.”
    The officer eyed her carefully, noticing her wringing hands, her shifting eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked kindly.
    Ava nodded. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I’m just a little nervous, to be honest.”
    The officer gestured toward the back of the room. “Why don’t you come back here and have a seat,” he said. “Then we can talk about what happened.” Ava smiled weakly, following him to a small desk in a corner. He fired up a laptop computer, inviting her to sit on a chair next to the desk. “Let’s start with your name,” he said quietly, tapping on the keyboard.
    “Ava,” she said. “Ava Michaels.”
    The officer smiled. “I’m Nick Simmons,” he said, holding out a hand. Ava shook it lightly. “Now, Ava, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
    Ava took a deep breath. “I was attacked last night when I was walking home from work.”
    Officer Simmons’s face grew hard, businesslike. “Let’s start at the beginning,” he said. “What time was this?”
    Ava told her story, answering the officer’s questions and doing her best to remember any details. He tapped away on his computer, compassionate but grim, only interrupting occasionally to clarify facts or try to glean more information from Ava’s scattered memories. When she finished, telling him she woke up in her own room with no memory of how she got there, he frowned.
    “You have no idea who it was?” he asked. “Who saved you?”
    Ava’s thoughts flew to Caleb for a split-second, but she shook her head. “No. I didn’t get a good look at him. Somehow, whoever it was got me home safely, but I have no idea who it was or how.”
    Officer Simmons sat back in his chair, scratching his chin lightly. “I have to be honest, Ava. This is a little bit out of our jurisdiction. I’ll need to call in the city police on this. They have more resources at their disposal.”
    “But I called the city police,” she protested. “They sent me to you.”
    “Did you tell them what happened?”
    Ava’s face fell. “Not specifically, no.” She felt the inexplicable prick of tears behind her eyes. Officer Simmons patted her hand sympathetically.
    “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll catch this guy.” He picked up the phone, dialing the local police department and quickly explaining who he was and what he needed. “Did you recognize him? Have you seen him before?” He asked Ava while he waited on hold.
    Ava hesitated. “I think I might have seen him once outside the restaurant where I work,” she said. She didn’t think it would be helpful to mention that he’d starred in her nightmares for the