He was walking farther.
Working mornings.
Remembering pieces.
Still losing entire days to headaches sometimes.
Elias listened without looking away.
Eventually, Noah asked, “How are you?”
Elias stared into his cup.
“Better than I was.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
He glanced at Miriam.
“I stopped driving.”
“For work?”
“Completely.”
Noah frowned.
“Because of the crash?”
“Every time I get behind the wheel, I hear the restraints fail.”
The room changed.
Noah placed his palm flat on the table.
“You weren’t driving recklessly.”
“My load came loose.”
“The restraint failed inside the housing.”
“I should have noticed.”
“The investigators said an inspection would not have shown it.”
“I was still behind the wheel.”
Noah looked at me.
I said nothing.
The words had to be his.
He turned back to Elias.
“I don’t remember you hitting me.”
