The dizziness passed.
We continued.
At the top, I unfastened the belt and helped him into the waiting chair.
The apartment door stood open.
Noah looked inside.
Nothing dramatic happened.
No instant recognition.
No gasp.
He stared at the narrow hallway, the old floorboards, the framed harbor maps. Marlowe pushed past us and trotted into the kitchen.
“This is it,” I said.
Noah did not answer.
Owen carried the bags into the spare room.
Caleb remained near the door.
The green navigation lamp hung on the wall beside the stairwell.
Noah saw it.
His breathing stopped.
I moved closer.
“The dream?”
He nodded.
The lamp was unlit in daylight, its thick glass dark as bottle green.
Noah reached toward it but could not quite touch from the chair.
I moved him nearer.
His fingers brushed the brass frame.
His face went pale.
“What is it?”
“I know this spot.”
My heart began to pound.
“From the photograph?”
“No.”
He closed his eye.
