Snowbound - Harlequin.com

254 SNOWBOUND
He sank back into the chair, but didn’t let go of the
arms. “Mine doesn’t process them. It’s stuck replaying.”
A nod. “Like a vinyl record with a scratch. Why do
you think you’re here?”
Trying to joke, to lighten the mood, John said, “Because
my little sister bullied me into it?”
“If that’s the only reason, we shouldn’t be wasting
our time.” Apparently Brian Lehr—that was his name—
didn’t have a sense of humor.
Fiona.
“Because of the scratch.” He had to clear his throat.
“Because I must be damaged.”
Lehr nodded. “So let’s back up. What are you yelling
when you wake up?”
The Arabic word sounded alien when he said it.
“Run,” he translated. “I was trying to warn them.”
“Them?”
“The kids.” He closed his eyes, but opened them
quickly, unable to bear the scene playing behind his
eyelids. “The boys.”
“How many?”
“Eleven. It…varied. Eleven that morning.”
The voice was both gentle and relentless. “And one
of them had a soccer ball?”
“Most of them did. Afterward…” He swallowed. “I
just saw the one.”
“They were going to practice? Play a game?”
His chest hurt. “Pickup game. The other team hadn’t
shown up yet.”
“How old were they?”
Were. That was the operative word. Six dead. Four