His skin looked unusually pale.
Then the woman noticed me.
Her expression changed immediately.
She walked through the conference-room door and approached me.
“Christopher?”
“Yes.”
She took both my hands.
“You came back.”
“I heard you were asking for me.”
Her eyes filled with emotion.
“I didn’t know your last name.”
“Bennett.”
“Christopher Bennett.”
She repeated it slowly.
“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 glanced around the office.
“No, they wouldn’t.”
I knew what she meant.
Several vehicles had passed her before mine.
“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 couldn’t finish.
I remembered kneeling on the wet gravel while she struggled to breathe.
