CHAPTER 2

"... writing as a scientist, avoid anthropomorphic and teleological expressions," Professor Sutton was saying to the students.

Michael Mackenzie, who was sitting at the front row of the lecture hall, couldn't help straying his gaze to a young woman sitting across the room from him. He would notice the long black hair tied in a ponytail anywhere even without looking. Manda. His Manda. His fiancée. He still had a hard time believing they were engaged.

And he missed her.

Ever since she had found out about her uncle's death, she had begun to avoid him. Although they didn't hang out like they used to, they still greeted each other whenever he passed her along the faculty hallway. She had told him she wanted some space of her own. He had complied. It was a little more than a month now, and he wondered if that was more than enough time for her to mourn. Still, she hadn't made any attempt to talk to him either.

Manda didn't seem to notice him sitting at the front, as she was scribbling something into her notebook. That reminded him to focus on what Professor Sutton was talking about.

"... sentence like 'the sunlight is bursting through the clouds' is not acceptable," Professor Sutton went on. "We know that sunlight does not burst. Such sentences are not only unacceptable, but often misleading. It shows a lack of understanding of the writer." He crossed the room and wrote a word on the blackboard. "The key word here is simplicity. I have brought some important articles for literature review to back up my points. Before we end the class, my teaching assistant, Mr. Mackenzie, will guide you on how to evaluate and criticise your own research writing during your tutorials next week."

At the mention of his name, Michael stood from his seat and acknowledged the students with a nod. He noticed Manda finally looked up from her notebook and stared at him with a look of mild surprise. Well, he was surprised, too, when Professor Sutton had requested him to take over the tutorials.

When the lecture was over, some of the students crowded the front table to ask more questions to the professor. A few of them went to Michael.

"Will this course help my thesis writing? I know that everyone who's taking this class is in their final year," a young woman with blond hair asked Michael.

"That is one of the objectives of this course," he answered.

"What if I have writer's block? Will you help me work out my problem?" another woman with fiery red hair asked him. And she was standing too close for his comfort.

He took a step back. "Actually, we can only guide you through the process of scientific writing," he said tactfully. The way she was looking at him from head to toe was making him uncomfortable. Not again. In fact when he looked closely, the students that surrounded him were female. Why did he always end up being crowded by female students? Maybe he should announce that he was engaged. That ought to steer the women away.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a nice Irish accent?" the redhead asked, smiling up at him.

He cleared his throat, growing more uncomfortable. "Umm, I've been told that before..." he replied, carefully turning to other students.

He answered a few more questions before he excused himself to talk to Professor Sutton for a few minutes and left the lecture hall. Once he stepped into the hallway, he caught sight of familiar long black hair, and she was heading towards the entrance. Whether she was still avoiding him or not, he couldn't be sure. But he made a quick decision and went after her.

-o-

Students and professors filled the hallway of the Science Faculty as Manda marched toward the large double door. A hand landed on her shoulder when she was about to step down the small flight of concrete steps. She didn't need to turn around to find out who it was, recognizing the scent of the aftershave. Just having his presence near was enough to remind her how long it had been since the last time they actually hanged out together.

"Hi," Michael said. He smiled at her, albeit in wariness, as if he was afraid he was offending her.

"Hi." She smiled back.

"It's been a while."

She swallowed. "I - I know. I saw you were busy with the students. I didn't want to disturb you."

There was a short pause before he asked, "Umm... how's everything going?"

"Okay. Nothing much happened." She shrugged.

"I'm just wondering if you're still mourning over your uncle's death. I don't want to bother you or anything like that."

"I'm fine now," she assured him. "I'm - I guess I could use a company."

He brightened up when he heard her reply. "Do you want to hang out at my place for a while? I could fix some lunch."

"That sounds great."

They strolled to the parking lot. Leaves covered the ground like orange and gold confetti. A gust of autumn wind blew their way, and Manda pulled the edge of her jacket closer against her, shivering from the cold. Somehow the gray weather complemented her feeling. She wished there was more sunlight to lift up her mood that was still reeling from her uncle's death. The sound of dried leaves crunching beneath their feet was the only thing that filled the silence between her and Michael.

"Should we take your car?" Michael asked when they arrived at the parking lot.

She shook her head. "Let's take yours. Mine's still at the dorm."

He looked at her. "You walked all the way here?"

"Yeah. I... I needed some thinking to do. Actually, I stopped by at the library before the class."

He gave her a thoughtful look. It was hard to guess what he was thinking as he was already unlocking his black Land Rover. After dumping their books and bags onto the backseat, they made their way to his apartment, which was less than five minutes away from the Science Faculty.

She sighed when she stepped inside his apartment. After discarding his books on the counter, Michael went to the kitchenette to prepare some lunch. Manda headed straight toward the living room, dropped her backpack and sat on the worn couch. She'd always liked Michael's snug little apartment. It never failed to make her feel homey. She could see the golden leaves of a tree through the lacy curtains as she sank back against the couch, facing the window.

Without thinking, she took a stack of colorful papers from the coffee table. They turned out to be junk mails and flyers. Most of them were activities that were held in campus this week: Greek house parties, drama competition, poetry reciting, band gigs. None of them were of interest to her.

She heard the footsteps against the parquet floor as Michael headed toward her. He brought a large plastic container filled with delectable brownies. Instantly, her mouth watered at the sight.

"Here, have some," he offered, placing the container on the coffee table. "I made them yesterday. Actually, there were more of these but Alex had finished half the batch last night."

"Where is she by the way?" Manda asked, still unable to get over the fact that Michael's flatmate was a young woman - a gorgeous young woman. She didn't need to be reminded how Alex - or Alexa Sinclair - ended up being Michael's flatmate. It was all due to a silly misunderstanding.

He sat next to her. "She went to New York early this morning. She'll probably be back late."

Manda took a piece of brownie and popped it into her mouth. "You made all these?"

Michael shrugged. "Hey, it was Sunday. I was bored and I had to do something to kill the time."

"Why didn't you call me last night?" she asked before she froze, realizing what she had just said. Michael glanced at her sharply. Her gaze dropped to the brownies. She didn't want him to know she had cooped up all day in her room, feeling miserable and bored to tears. It seemed that the more she spent her time alone, the more she found herself reminiscing the good old days when her family was all together. Her uncle was like a second father to her. She remembered the time - No. Don't go that way, again.

"I'm sorry," Michael was saying, bringing her back to earth. "I had thought that-"

She waved his reply away. "Forget it. It wasn't your fault. I wasn't implying..."

"Implying what?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

It was a little disconcerting the way his blue eyes were studying her. "Are you sure you're all right, Manda? If you want to be left alone, I can-"

"I'm fine," she cut in. "Really." She grabbed his hand before he moved away.

He looked doubtful, glancing at her small pale hand over his large one, but he finally gave a nod. Sighing, she snuggled up closer against him when he slid his arm around her shoulders. She smiled when he gave a peck on the side of her head. She really missed this.

Michael didn't say anything, but then he didn't need to because she was enjoying the comfortable silence. It was a moment later when he spoke up.

"There's something I need to give you, Manda."

She looked up at him in puzzlement. "What is it?"

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "This is for you. I've been meaning to give you this, but... you know, things happened."

"What's this for?" she asked, flicking through the set.

"Our house in Lilac Point."

"You mean, you've already bought it?"

"Are you having second thoughts?" His dark brows creased together in wariness. "You seemed to like it the last time we checked the house."

"No. No. That's not it. I still like it. I'm... I'm just surprised. It - It's pretty fast." She tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of their upcoming wedding. Although they had planned to get married after she had graduated, it still felt so... soon. So real.

"We can start adding some furniture - you know, make it feel like home," he told her.

She swallowed. The thought of living with him was a little frightening and unnerving. She was glad it wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

"There's nothing to be worried about," he assured her, patting her hand, and rose from his seat. "Come on, let's get some lunch."

Following him to the kitchen, her stomach rumbled in anticipation as she glanced at the lasagna he had prepared. However, the beeping of her cell phone interrupted her while she had begun eating. Manda pulled out her phone, contemplating for a second to ignore the caller until she saw the caller ID. Dad. She wasn't sure how to react. Since the day he'd told her how he'd found Uncle Connor's body, she hadn't seen or talked to her father for weeks. Even if she tried to call him at his office, he wasn't always to be found. She knew she should get used to his disappearing acts by now, but she hadn't expected him to avoid his brother's funeral. He and Uncle Connor were not only brothers but best friends as well.

Taking a deep breath, she answered the call. "Dad?"

"Miss Rider?" an unfamiliar man's voice replied from the other end.

She tensed. "Who's this?"

"This is Assistant Director Vandergelt from the FBI."

"Oh." She remembered her father had mentioned once that Vandergelt was his superior. "H-How did you get my dad's phone?"

There was a pause for a moment, and a feeling of dread clouded over her.

"I found it near the scene of the crime. I'm afraid there's been-"

"Something's happened to my dad, isn't it?" Her blood instantly grew cold as she clutched the phone tighter in her fist. This isn't happening. Please tell me this isn't happening.

"Your father and Agent Daniels were investigating a shooting," Vandergelt explained in a grim note. "There was an explosion. Agent Daniels was found unconscious next to the blast. He's in the ICU right now, and he hasn't woken up, yet."

"What about my dad?"

"He's missing... I'm guessing that he was trapped in the explosion - there are traces of burnt remains and body parts. Until we get the DNA results, I'm going to assume that your father is dead. I'm sorry, Miss Rider." His voice sounded detached and formal.

Her hand trembled as she hung up the phone before Vandergelt could finish. Her vision blurred with tears. She couldn't understand it. She hadn't cried at all when her dad told her about Uncle Connor's death. Now, she couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Quickly, she left the table and brushed the tears away before Michael noticed something was wrong with her.

"Manda, what is it? What happened?"

Her heart sank when she heard his voice coming closer. He looked very concerned when he stood in front of her. Something on her expression must have made him pull her into his arms.

"I overheard you talking. Is your father all right?" he asked gently.

She relayed to him what Vandergelt had told her on the phone.

"Oh, Manda. I'm so sorry to hear that."

She pushed him away. "Don't say that. My father's not dead."

"What about the human remains found?"

"We still don't know if it's his," she pointed out. "Until we hear the results, I will assume Dad's alive."

"I can understand that, Manda. But sometimes you have to prepare to face the worst." There was a firm line on his mouth as he looked at her. "Are you going to avoid everyone again?"

She studied her fingernails. "If I have to." She didn't need to ask him what he was implying.

He sighed. "Manda, it's not wrong to be mourning, but you can't shut your friends out of your life." He raked a hand through his dark wavy hair in apparent frustration. "What are you going to do now?"

"Find out what's happened to my dad. I'm going to New York and talk to Vandergelt again."

"Let's finish our lunch first. You look like you haven't eaten for days."

She shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

He frowned as he studied her again. "Did you have breakfast this morning?"

"Umm... no." She cringed inwardly. She wished she could take back her words, knowing Michael was very particular that she ate well.

"Then we're not going to talk to Vandergelt until we eat first. We need all the energy we can get." He took her hand and led her back to the kitchen.

"Who said you're going to New York with me?" she retorted.

Michael gave a slight smile. "I just did."