Jacard sat among the small pieces of his life looking at the larger ones. He and they were crusted with grit and soaked in rain.
He cupped a photograph of a woman gently by its edges.
He felt like he ought to be frantic. Ought to fling debris from the carcass of his home calling out her name or run toward the road while a verteran-eyed emergency worker held him back. But the truth, that Melanie was driving home from Halton and was probably fine, kept extinguishing that fear. Phones were down. Cell towers out. She was undoubtedly on her way home now. The most he could do was wait…and not get put on television.