Suspicious New Professor

The Abandoned Office

17

The halls of Lille National Institute were quiet and dimly lit as Jenissa and Emile moved quickly and quietly toward Elias Noir’s office. They’d spent days preparing for this moment, mapping out the building, timing the guard’s rounds, and checking the maintenance schedules. Every detail had been meticulously planned. But now, with the night finally here, Jenissa could feel her heart pounding as they made their way down the corridor, her breath quickening with a mix of fear and determination.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Emile whispered, his eyes darting around the empty hallway. His voice was tense, but he didn’t falter. Despite his apprehension, he was committed, standing by Jenissa’s side.

Jenissa glanced over at him, her face set with grim resolve. “If we don’t find something tonight, Elias could slip away again, and we’d be left with nothing. We can’t let him continue whatever he’s doing. Not here, not anywhere.”

They reached the door to Elias’s office, a solid wooden door with an old-fashioned lock that seemed out of place in the modern building. It looked imposing, almost as if it had been designed to keep secrets. Jenissa reached into her pocket, pulling out the small lock-picking tool kit Emile had borrowed from a friend in one of the engineering programs.

“Here goes nothing,” she whispered, kneeling down to the lock. The tools were unfamiliar in her hands, but she’d practiced enough to know the basics. She inserted a tension wrench and then a pick, feeling her way through the tumblers.

After a few tense moments, there was a soft click. She felt the lock release.

“Nice work,” Emile murmured, his admiration evident as he pushed open the door. They slipped inside, closing it quietly behind them.

The office was shrouded in darkness, and for a moment, neither of them moved. It felt wrong to disturb the eerie stillness that hung in the air. Jenissa switched on her small flashlight, casting a beam of light over the space. The office was meticulously organized, almost obsessively neat. A filing cabinet stood against the wall, and a single laptop sat on the desk, closed and gleaming under the flashlight’s beam.

Emile let out a breath. “It looks… normal. Too normal.”

“That’s what makes it unsettling,” Jenissa replied, scanning the room. She moved toward the desk, letting her light flicker over a series of framed certificates and photos that adorned the walls. Most were generic, documents of degrees and awards from various institutions. But as she leaned in closer, she noticed that there were no personal photos, nothing to show a hint of Elias’s life outside academia. It was as if his identity was limited to the image he’d carefully crafted here.

Emile crouched by the filing cabinet, gently testing the drawers. They were locked.

Jenissa’s eyes narrowed. “Let me try.”

She took out the lock-picking tools once more, her fingers steady as she worked the lock. This time, the drawer popped open with surprising ease. As she pulled it open, a faint scent of dust and stale paper filled the air, and inside were stacks of neatly organized files. Jenissa sifted through them, her pulse quickening as she saw familiar names on the tabs: former students from Lille and previous institutions.

Emile glanced over her shoulder, his brow furrowing. “These… these are all missing students, aren’t they?”

Jenissa nodded, her fingers trembling as she pulled out a file labeled Mariah Lavigne. Inside was a photo of a young woman with bright eyes and a vibrant smile. The sight of her, frozen in time, made Jenissa’s stomach twist.