“Disappointing.”
“Reid, help me.”
“I have no authority here.”
Noah squeezed my hand beneath the desk.
When we left, he looked brighter than he had when we entered.
Not because of the jokes.
Because the episode now had warning signs.
It had language.
It had a plan.
It was no longer a nameless thing waiting in the dark.
Chapter 38
REID
Noah’s first trip beyond the yard without me lasted thirty-seven minutes.
I knew the exact duration because I watched the clock as though it were counting down to an explosion.
He had gone with Owen, which should have made the exercise easier to tolerate. Of everyone in Noah’s life, Owen had become one of the few whose help never felt like surveillance. He repeated things without slowing his voice into false patience. He matched Noah’s pace without making a performance of it. He knew when a joke might loosen tension and when silence was the kinder choice.
They took the powered chair. The pavement beyond the gate tilted toward the harbor, and the café sat three blocks away on a corner where delivery trucks cut too sharply through the intersection.
The assignment had been simple.
Leave the yard.
Travel three blocks.
Order lunch for five people.
Pay.
Come home.
I stood beside the south doors pretending to evaluate a coil of shore cable that had already passed inspection.
At the workbench beside me, Caleb tightened a clamp.
“He’s all right.”
“I haven’t said otherwise.”
“You’ve checked the gate nineteen times.”
“Twenty.”
“That correction did not help you.”
I set the cable down.
