“Nothing,” Owen said.
“Say it.”
Caleb sighed. “You’re making plans as if you can control every reaction he’ll have.”
“I’m making sure he has choices.”
“That’s good. Just remember you get to exist in the house too.”
“It’s his house.”
“It’s yours as well.”
The distinction felt irrelevant.
My life had become a structure built around Noah’s needs. Without that structure, I had nothing to stand on.
Two days later, Dr. Whitcomb tested his new memory.
She asked what year it was.
He answered correctly after a pause.
She asked where he lived.
“Greyhaven.”
“Where in Greyhaven?”
He looked at me.
“Above the boatyard.”
“Yes,” I said.
She asked who Leah was.
“My sister.”
“What does Reid do?”
“Owns the yard.”
“And what is his relationship to you?”
Noah’s face went still.
Dr. Whitcomb waited.
“He says we’re partners.”
The phrasing hurt, but she nodded.
“That is correct.”
He turned toward me. “Five years?”
“Yes.”
