"Tam, he never knew what hit him. It had to be instantaneous." I was trying to brush the wet snow off her face as I slipped my arm around her shoulders. She was still holding back the tears, but only just.
"We didn't even have a real good-bye." Her words were jagged. "There were so many things . . . I was hoping we . . ."
Her voice trailed off into tears.
"Look, I only knew him for a day, but that was enough to learn some things. Kenji Asano was a wise and noble soul. Everything about him was good."
She took my hand and held it against her cheek. "Matt, he was so kind. That was what . . . He was . . . all that I . . ." Her eyes were reflecting back the flames, now billowing into the pale afternoon sky. Around us the labs were emptying as technicians raced toward the lot, white coats fluttering.
"You know, he said something to me today. About you . . ."
"What?" She glanced up, her face streaked. "What did he
say?"
"He must have known there was danger. He sort of asked me to look out for you."
"Danger?" She looked back at the wreckage, and a new tear trailed down her left cheek. "I guess we don't really know for sure, do we? Maybe it was just a fuel tank rupture, or . . ."