Logan shrugged.
“The dispatcher helped.”
“I know. But you must have learned something before today.”
He stared at his hands.
Finally, he nodded.
“I took a CPR class.”
I turned toward him.
“When?”
“Last fall. At the community center.”
I frowned.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He hesitated.
“Because of Dad.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“I kept thinking about what happened on the road,” he continued.
“I know the doctors said everything happened quickly. I know they said there might not have been anything anyone could do.”
He paused.
“But I kept wondering what would’ve happened if someone nearby had known CPR.”
I reached for his hand.
“So you took a class?”
He nodded.
“On Tuesday evenings.”
I stared at him.
“Those were the nights you said you were with Marcus.”
“Yeah.”
Suddenly, months of worry came rushing back.
All those evenings I’d imagined him getting into trouble.
