“I’m Lieutenant Aaron Pike,” he said. “I was with the technical rescue crew.”
Noah’s face emptied.
“The accident,” Aaron added gently.
“Yes.”
“I was hoping to return these myself.”
Noah released my hand.
The absence of him felt immediate.
I moved the chair back to make room.
Aaron placed the case on the table.
“There isn’t much,” he said. “The front of the van took most of the damage. We found this behind the passenger seat.”
He opened the latches.
Inside lay Noah’s phone, a dented metal travel mug, a ring of keys, his work notebook, and the broken remains of the watch I had given him on our third anniversary.
The leather strap had been cut.
The glass face was gone.
The hands had stopped at eight twenty-six.
I looked away.
Noah reached toward the case but did not touch anything.
“You got me out?” he asked Aaron.
“My crew did.”
“How?”
Aaron glanced at Mara.
“You don’t have to explain,” I said.
“I want to know,” Noah replied.
The sharpness in his voice was not directed at me, but it found me anyway.
Aaron pulled the visitor’s chair closer without sitting.
“The van went through the barrier and became wedged against several trees. The steel struck the engine compartment and pinned the driver’s side. The slope was unstable, so we secured the vehicle before cutting through.”
Noah listened without blinking.
“Were you awake?”
“Not when I first reached you.”
“The dream has knocking.”
