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“Pieces?”

“Yeah. I remember waking up on the road. Couldn’t move my left leg. Couldn’t figure out where I was.” I swallow. “Kept asking somebody where Eli was.”

She reaches for my hand.

I let her take it.

“Nobody would tell me.”

My voice comes out rough.

“Next thing I remember, I’m in a hospital bed. Mom’s crying. Somebody’s explaining what happened, but I can’t make sense of the words.”

I look at Autumn.

“Then she tells me Eli’s dead.”

Her fingers tighten around mine.

“And I realize I broke my promise.”

“Gray.”

“If I’d just told him no…”

I stop.

There’s no point finishing.

I’ve said the rest to myself ten thousand times.

Autumn waits until I look at her.

“What happened to you after the crash?”

I shrug.

“Broken bones. Collapsed lung. Head injury. They put me back together.”

“That sounds a little more complicated than putting together a motorcycle.”

“Mechanics are better company than doctors.”

“Shocking.”

I almost smile.

“The head injury was the worst part,” I admit. “Concussion, bleeding, swelling. They called it a traumatic brain injury. I spent months in the hospital and physical therapy.”

“Do you still have problems?”

“Some.”

“Like what?”

“Words disappear sometimes. I’ll know exactly what I want to say, and the fucking word won’t come. Or somebody tells me something, and later I can’t remember the conversation.” I rub my temple. “There are entire stretches of that hospital stay I can’t piece together.”

“Does it scare you?”