“No.”
“Brighter?”
“No. Leave it exactly like that.”
His fingertips shifted once against my chest.
“I dreamed something else before I woke.”
“The warm room?”
He nodded.
“What happened?”
“I heard a sound.”
“What kind?”
“I can’t tell.”
His brow furrowed against my shoulder.
“Three notes. Always the same.”
“Music?”
“No.”
“A bell?”
“Maybe.”
He shut his eye.
“It comes through fog. Two quick sounds, then one longer one.”
I listened.
The harbor was full of signals. Buoys. Fog bells. Ship horns. Dock alarms. The warning beep from the travel lift. Any one of them could have buried itself in his mind before the accident.
“What do you feel when you hear it?” I asked.
His fingers stopped.
“Not afraid.”
“Safe?”
“More than safe.”
Exhaustion blurred the edges of his voice.
“Like someone is waiting for me to answer.”
The words tightened something in my chest.
“Do you answer?”
