“Don’t worry, babe,” Noah says, placing his hand on my lower back and spreading his fingers. “We’ll work on that. Can we just figure out who the hell sent it first?”
“Yeah,” I say, watching anxiously.
The conversation falls silent as we watch over Simon’s shoulder. “Alright,” he says after a little while. “I can see that the email was sent from computer five,” he says, quickly glancing across the room to the offending computer before getting back to it. “It was sent at 8:17am this morning,” he says slowly, piecing together the information as he’s getting it. “And it was logged in with the student ID – 7258.”
“Who the fuck is that?” Noah grunts as I take hold of his hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Hold on,” Simon murmurs, concentrating on the computer as he goes into the student records. “Alright, student ID – 7258 is…” he sucks in a breath, his back straightening. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Noah demands.
I hear Simon swallow. “7258 is Rivers,” he tells us. “Rivers sent the blast.”