“Christopher?”
“Yes.”
She reached for both of my hands.
“You came back.”
“I heard you were asking for me.”
Her eyes filled.
“I didn’t know your last name.”
“Bennett.”
“Christopher Bennett.”
She repeated it slowly, almost as if she wanted to remember it.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Better.”
“Good.”
“I owe you my life.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“You stopped.”
“So would most people.”
She looked around the office.
Then back at me.
“No, they wouldn’t.”
I knew immediately what she meant.
Cars had passed.
More than one.
She squeezed my hands.
“You stayed until the ambulance arrived.”
“Anyone should.”
“You kept me conscious.”
“I just talked.”
“You told me about your daughters.”
I smiled faintly.
“You kept asking questions.”
“Because I was afraid that if I stopped talking…”
She let the sentence disappear.
Then she took a breath.
“What happened after I left?”
I glanced toward Gavin.
