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He nods his head at us, and we watch him speed walk toward the packed elevators.
"He’s shaken up," I say, sticking my hands in my pockets.
"Yeah, he saw someone almost die today," Woods replies softly. "That makes sense."
"He’s seen people almost die before," I say, sitting on one of the many sofas in the lobby. There are a lot of people here, but no one is sitting around us. Everyone’s having animated conversations. No one’s paying attention to our conversation. "That could’ve been a lot worse."
"It could’ve been," Woods says, sitting next to me, his left foot on his thigh as he stretches. "But it wasn’t. And every time Luke has been around someone who’s almost died, he’s been able to help."
"No, he hasn’t."
"He hasn’t succeeded every time," Woods says. "But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried to help, and I think there’s something to that. What could we do this time, except watch?"
I groan, throwing my head back. "We have actual work to do, Woods," I say. "We can’t just hang around here and wait for this girl to provide answers because she won’t. She absolutely won’t."
"You’re probably right," he replies, readjusting his glasses. "Let me talk to her. Just one conversation and then we can all go home. And forget all of this ever happened. Next time we come to Orlando, we’ll do it for fun."
"Or we could just, you know, never come back," I say.
"Right. Fingers crossed," he replies. "I just have to be right. Can’t be that hard."
"Totally. We’ll be out of here in no time."
I’m not sure why, but it feels like a lie.
