Page 93

Pullman, Washington

B en Roberts has his mind on end-of-term exams, so he barely notices that the spot where Bryan Kohberger usually sits in class in Wilson-Short Hall is empty today.

Ben’s head is filled with projects and deadlines. Plus, he’s just bumped into someone in the financial technology program who has news of four horrendous homicides over in Moscow. University students stabbed in their bedrooms in the middle of the night.

That’s completely horrible, Ben thinks.

He tries to put it out of his mind. Goes back to focusing on his classwork.

But later, members of the cohort, and Ben, will think hard about Bryan’s absence that day and what it meant.

They clocked it because they decided they needed to create a paper trail, a record of what Bryan said and did. Just in case something unexpected happened. If he were to lodge a complaint against one of the professors, for instance.

“We all felt he was creepy,” Ben said, “but harmless.”

Bryan is weird. But he’s not evil.

But the next day and the day after that, Ben starts to see a slight change in Bryan. He becomes a bit lighter, more animated. Ben ascribes it to the end of term coming and the “filters” coming off. Something about his appearance is a little looser. He’s grown stubble.

Ben also hears that Bryan’s grading of the undergraduates’ papers is changing dramatically.

Everyone—women included—starts getting high marks. Bryan stops writing essays on their essays. Some of the students are shocked. But also relieved.

Ben hears the gossip, but he doesn’t pay too much attention to this at the time. None of the cohort does; their focus is on exams and grades. They came here to get graduate degrees so they could find good jobs. Ben assumes that’s what they all want.

Bryan must too.

But when Ben thinks about it, he realizes Bryan doesn’t talk much about his plans for the future.

Still, Ben assumes he has them.

Why wouldn’t he?