I managed to put things off to the side in my head to get through the next two weeks, until three days before the last day of school. I was helping my neighbor Kim, who lived across the hall from me two doors down, pack up her room. Kim and I were talking about her French penal, her grandfather, WWII etc. when we came to a lull in the conversation. At which point Kim asked me what I thought of my room. I said it was okay; she wrinkled up her nose and said, "Oh! I hated that room! I couldn't get out of there fast enough and I still don't like to walk past it." At which point we just stared at each other for a moment. I must have had a peculiar look on my face because then she said, "You've seen it too." I just said yeah, and then Kim proceeded to tell me her story.
When Kim first came to UW a year and a half before, she was assigned to room 217. Half way through the semester she awoke one night because she heard a step on the floor (the floor is tile and she didn't have a rug like me.). Standing in the middle of her room looking startled as though he were just caught in the act of something was a tall man in a dark suit. He was bald, with a long sharp nose and black eyes that watched her as though he were surprised to see her and yet he had been walking towards her.