“Where is he?”
“Greyhaven Regional. He was transported by air ambulance.”
Air ambulance.
The phrase did not fit inside my mind.
“I need to go.”
“We’ll take you.”
“I can drive.”
“No,” Caleb said.
I turned toward him.
His face had gone pale beneath his freckles. “You’re not driving.”
“I need my keys.”
“I have them.”
I didn’t remember giving them to him.
Owen came closer, removing his safety glasses. “I’ll stay here.”
“Close the yard,” Caleb said. “Cancel everything.”
“We have boats—”
“Reid.” Caleb caught my shoulders. “Listen to me. Owen and I have the yard. You go.”
I looked down and saw that my hands were shaking.
Grease marked the creases of my fingers. I had been replacing a corroded bracket. Ten minutes earlier, that had mattered.
Now nothing existed beyond a hospital I could not picture and the fact that Noah was alive.
Alive.
Deputy Kemp held the door.
I followed them into the rain.
The drive became a collection of fragments.
Blue light flickering across wet storefronts.
Deputy Alvarez speaking into a radio.
My knee striking the door because I could not stop it from bouncing.
I called Noah three times, though I knew he wouldn’t answer.
On the fourth attempt, Deputy Alvarez gently lowered my hand.
“His phone may have been damaged,” she said.
