A firefighter named Grant rushed forward and caught the edge of the box before it hit the floor.
“I’ve got it,” he said quietly.
I let him take it.
My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn’t have held it much longer anyway.
“How badly?” I asked.
Captain Reyes looked directly at me.
“He was conscious when they transported him.”
That wasn’t an answer.
“How badly?”
“There was a warehouse fire this morning. Part of the interior structure gave way.”
My mouth went dry.
Captain Reyes continued carefully.
“Tyler and two others were inside. They got everyone out, but Tyler took the worst of the impact.”
I pressed one hand against my chest.
“He called me this morning.”
“I know.”
“He sounded fine.”
“That was before the call.”
The room blurred for a second.
I remembered Tyler standing in our kitchen.
“Don’t do anything crazy today.”
His smile.
His bag over his shoulder.
“Love you.”
Those had been completely ordinary words.
Suddenly, they felt unbearably important.
“Why didn’t anyone call me?”
Captain Reyes’s face tightened.
“We tried.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Amanda, we did.”
I grabbed my phone from my purse.
No missed calls.
No messages.
Nothing.
I held it up.
“There’s nothing here.”
Grant looked uncomfortable.
Captain Reyes frowned.
“What number do we have for you?”
I recited it.
He went still halfway through.
Then he looked toward the office.
“That’s not the number on Tyler’s emergency contact form.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He repeated the last four digits.
They belonged to my old number.
The one I’d changed almost two years earlier.
For one ridiculous moment, I wanted to laugh.
Of all the paperwork Tyler remembered to complete, he had apparently forgotten the form that mattered most.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
I looked toward the doors.
“I need to go.”
Captain Reyes nodded.
“I’ll drive you.”
“No. I can drive.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I said I can drive.”
My voice cracked on the last word.
That ended the argument.
