Then nodded slowly.
“Thank you.”
She stepped closer.
“That's one of the reasons I trust you.”
My heart moved in a way I wasn't ready to examine.
Kelly smiled.
Then got into her car.
I watched her drive away, feeling something I hadn't experienced in years.
Hope.
Not only about Hannah's accident.
About the possibility that life might still have room for someone new.
The investigation moved slowly.
Days became weeks.
The shuttle company initially struggled to locate its archived records.
The ownership had changed.
Some files were stored by an insurance administrator.
Others were held by a fleet management firm.
Then Detective Sloane found a reference to an evidence-preservation request issued during an early civil insurance dispute.
The request concerned video recorded by one of the shuttle's onboard cameras.
The footage had been retained.
Not in the ordinary working system.
In a secured archive associated with the older claim.
When Sloane called to tell me, I was standing in my kitchen making grilled cheese sandwiches.
Ava was upstairs playing with a toy horse.
I turned off the stove.
“Did you see it?”
“Not yet,” Sloane answered. “We've located a potential recording. We still have to verify the file, examine the timestamps, and establish what it actually shows.”
I closed my eyes.
“Okay.”
She paused.
“Jeffrey, I know waiting is hard.”
I almost laughed.
Waiting had been the central occupation of my life since Hannah died.
Waiting for a phone call that couldn't come.
For a dream that might let me hear her voice.
For the day Ava could talk about her mother without crying.
For the pain to become something I could carry without feeling it in every breath.
Now I was waiting for a recording that might explain why my wife never came home.
“I know,” I whispered.
A week later, Sloane called again.
This time, her voice was different.
More serious.
“Jeffrey, we need to speak.”
My hands went cold.
“Did you find something?”
“Yes.”
I waited.
Then she continued.
“The recording contains information that warrants reopening the collision investigation.”
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
“What information?”
She paused.
“I'd rather explain the findings in person after the technical review.”
I wanted to demand an answer.
Instead, I nodded even though she couldn't see me.
“All right.”
The following morning, I sat in a small conference room while an investigator explained what the recording showed.