She had to get indoors and soon. Even more than that, she needed someone to give her advice, or, at least, take the news she had from her so she wasn't the only person to carry the burden. Professor J, she thought immediately. Even if he didn't still live in this old neighborhood, she would still have wanted to go to him. Her walk turned into a trot and she scanned each dark space between the houses and in the empty lots and near the parked or broken cars.
A light was on somewhere far back in Professor J's house. The kitchen, she thought, picturing the eccentric man steaming a chai to keep his fingers warm as he worked late. He wasn't old, but most people thought of him as having been around a long time. It was difficult to imagine him as young, at least.
She could see though the partially-closed curtains through the living room and back towards the kitchen, and yet she was still a little nervous going to Professor J's house so late at night. She was sure he'd help. He'd have to.
She went to the side porch, clutching her bag strap that pulled across her shoulder, and knocked firmly on the wooden screen door. A moment later, the many locks rattling, the door opened, warm kitchen light framing the professor in his loose work clothes and always disheveled hair. "Katie? What is it?" The screen door's spring creaked as he pushed it open for her. "Come in, come in. Are you hurt?" Professor J peered out into the darkness as Katie entered. The screen door banged shut twice and the professor closed and relocked the interior door. Professor J took in Katie, with her bag and flushed cheeks, standing practically on tip toe. "Sit, and have some tea while you tell me what's up."
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