“Don’t be alone.”
“I’m not.”
The deputies had left. Dana was gone. The room was empty except for me.
“I’m not,” I repeated.
Leah knew I was lying. She let it pass.
After the call, I sat.
Time stopped behaving normally.
A minute could expand until it became unbearable. An hour could vanish without leaving evidence. People entered, spoke, and left. Someone brought another cup of water. Someone else asked me to sign forms.
I signed Noah’s name once.
The clerk slid the paper back and showed me where mine belonged.
At some point, Caleb arrived carrying my coat and a canvas bag.
“You left this in the workshop,” he said.
I looked at him.
His hair was wet. His face had the strained composure of someone trying to hold himself together for my sake.
“What time is it?”
“Almost one.”
I had been there more than three hours.
“Owen’s at the yard,” he said. “He called every customer. Nobody’s expecting us to open tomorrow.”
“We can’t close indefinitely.”
“We can.”
“Payroll—”
“I know how to run payroll.”
“The parts order—”
“Reid.”
I pressed my fists to my eyes.
Caleb sat in the chair beside me. “Have you heard anything?”
“They took out his spleen.”
“Oh.”
“They said people can live without it.”
“They can.”
