“And you noticed fuel leaking.”
Amara shook her head.
“The bus driver did.”
“You moved people away from the side of the SUV.”
“Because he told me.”
Graham looked at her for several seconds.
Amara began to understand something about him.
He did not like exaggerated heroes.
Good.
Neither did she.
Evelyn looked toward Rochelle.
“I am sorry to arrive this early.”
“I wanted to come yesterday.”
“The doctors refused.”
Rochelle said:
“Good doctors.”
Evelyn smiled.
Graham looked around.
“May we sit?”
Rochelle’s eyes briefly flicked toward the old sofa.
The cushion Caleb had patched with black thread.
The coffee table Marcus built from salvaged oak.
Then she said:
“Of course.”
No apology for the furniture.
Amara noticed.
Loved her for it.
They sat.
Caleb remained standing until Rochelle glared.
Then he squeezed beside Amara.
Graham placed a slim black folder on the table.
Amara’s stomach tightened.
Evelyn saw.
“This isn’t money.”
Amara looked at her.
Evelyn smiled faintly.
“I assumed that face meant you thought we were about to hand you a check.”
Caleb said:
“I thought that.”
“Caleb.”
“What?”
Evelyn laughed.
For the first time, tension eased.
Then she became serious.
“The ambulance crew told us you disappeared before they could get your full information.”
“I had to go.”
“To your exam.”
Amara froze.
“How do you know?”
“The bus driver told the police officer.”
“The officer told my husband’s security director when they were trying to identify you.”
Amara looked toward Graham.
He nodded.
Evelyn continued:
“What exam?”
Amara hesitated.
“Harrison Scholars.”
Both visitors changed.
Not dramatically.
Enough.
Rochelle noticed too.
“What?”
Evelyn looked toward Graham.
Then back to Amara.
“You missed the Harrison examination because you stayed with me?”
Amara hated how the sentence sounded.
Like an accusation.
“No.”
“I missed it because the rules said the doors closed.”
“But you would have arrived on time.”
“Probably.”
Evelyn’s eyes filled again.
“Oh, no.”
Amara immediately said:
“I filed the emergency petition.”
“Good.”
Evelyn looked relieved.
Then Graham asked:
“Who told you about the petition?”
“The exam coordinator.”
“Not the student liaison?”
Amara looked at him.
“How do you know there was a student liaison?”
Graham opened the black folder.
The top document carried a familiar crest.
HARRISON SCHOLARS FOUNDATION.
Amara stared.
He said:
“The foundation is ours.”
Silence.
Caleb whispered:
“No way.”
Rochelle glanced at him.
Not now.
Graham corrected:
“Not ours personally.”
“It’s an independent charitable trust.”
“My company funds most of it.”
“Evelyn chairs the board.”
Amara looked at Evelyn.
The woman she had met trapped inside a damaged SUV.
The woman whose blood dried on Amara’s coat.
Evelyn nodded.
“The scholarship was my project before Graham’s company became involved.”
Amara’s mind moved too quickly.
“No.”
Evelyn smiled sadly.
“Yes.”
Amara stood.