“The van shifted while we were stabilizing it.”
Aaron’s voice roughened.
“You were protected. Nothing else hit you.”
“You sound sure.”
“I was beside you.”
Noah looked at him for the first time with something other than distance.
“Thank you.”
Aaron’s eyes lowered.
“It’s my job.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t thank you.”
“No.”
Aaron swallowed.
“No, it doesn’t.”
Mara opened a slim folder.
“The mechanical investigation is complete,” she said. “The front restraint on the load failed because of internal corrosion. It wasn’t visible during the driver’s inspection. When the trailer moved across the wet grade, the secondary lock tore free.”
“The driver didn’t do it?”
“There’s no evidence of recklessness, impairment, or excessive speed.”
Noah leaned back against the pillow.
“Who is he?”
“Elias Grant. He has driven commercially for thirty-two years. He hasn’t returned to work.”
“Why not?”
Mara hesitated.
“He’s having difficulty getting behind the wheel.”
Noah looked toward the broken watch.
“He wants to see me.”
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“He asked whether contact would be appropriate. We told him it had to be your decision.”
I watched Noah’s face.
