Beside me, Arthur started to cry. He did it soundlessly, with a quiet catching breath. So startling, that for a moment I imagined he was sorry. He swallowed, and his throat bobbed, muscles sliding under skin. There was a thick sweat shining on his forehead, I noticed, and beginning to trickle down his face, a drip suspended from the tip of his nose and then falling. His hand lifted, trembling, to his throat. I backed my chair away from the table. “I didn’t.” Shaking my head already. “I didn’t.” I would go for the phone. I would call whoever needed to be called, the helivac that should have
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