Across from him sat the woman from the roadside.
Her hair had been brushed neatly now.
She wore a cream blouse beneath the same navy coat.
There was no ambulance blanket around her shoulders.
No oxygen mask.
No terrified expression.
Instead, she looked calm.
Controlled.
Powerful.
Beside her sat two men and one woman in expensive suits.
Another man stood near the window.
Gavin looked like somebody awaiting sentencing.
Then the woman saw me.
She rose immediately.
So did everyone else.
Except Gavin.
He looked as if his knees had forgotten how to work.
I opened the conference-room door.
The woman walked directly toward me.
“Christopher Bennett.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes filled with emotion.
“You stopped.”
I swallowed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better.”
“That’s good.”
She looked at me for several seconds.
Then she did something nobody in that room expected.
She hugged me.
Not politely.
Not ceremonially.
She wrapped both arms around me like someone embracing family after years apart.
