It's resonances." Blankenship gazes over your shoulder as if looking into another dimension. Maybe he is. "I've been fighting to return for—I don't know how long it's been. Every time I reached for home, I felt you." His gaze returns to you. It's like having a bright flashlight turned on your face. "You replaced me?"
"I hope that doesn't hurt your feelings."
"You have my position. You work in my office, research in my lab. No wonder we were tied together. How long? Since I left, I mean."
"You vanished in March. It's December now."
"Nine months. Like a pregnancy." He huffs a laugh. It's as rough as his cough.