Her lips were close to my cheek, and she gently kissed it. “A wise man once told me that you have to put yourself in uncomfortable situations. That’s the only way you’re going to grow.”

I shook her fingers, letting her know I was ready, and as she led us closer, my brain played out the moments from that day. The weightlessness I’d felt in my legs as I walked, the crowd I had weaved my way through, the picture I had taken for Smith by lifting my arm high in the air.

My legs tingled.

My back fucking throbbed.

My eyes frantically searched for the spot that had ultimately changed my life.

A bright red awning came into view, a color I remembered because it so closely resembled one of the international flags that had been waving at the finish line.

Nothing followed that memory, only blackness.

“There,” I said, pointing to the pavement not far from where we were. “That’s where I think the medics found me.”

The wheels of the chair hugged the edge of the curb as I stared at the ground—a simple, nondescript charcoal gray.

“I can feel the pain in the air,” she said softly.

I felt it each time I inhaled, my ears cracking as the noise of the blast came back to me.

She stood at my side, the warmth of her grip somewhere on me. “What are you thinking about?”

“The sound.” I sensed its claws around my eardrums. “It was like a gunshot but a thousand times louder.” I swallowed, the acid burning all the way to my stomach. “And the fear that consumed me when I woke up in the hospital, not knowing what was wrong with me, the pain immeasurable.”

“You are so incredibly brave. I hope you know that.”

“I’m not … I’m fucking angry.” My jaw tensed, hands slick as I squeezed the vinyl handles. “Do you know how many times I wanted to throw something out of my hospital window, shattering the glass like the bomb had done to my back? Or all the times I had to stop myself from screaming at the top of my lungs because I couldn’t handle another second of agony? Or how I want to wrap my fingers around that motherfucker’s neck and torture him for the hell he’s put me through?”

“Even if their circumstances were different than yours, I haven’t looked after a single patient who hasn’t felt the same. Anger makes you human, Caleb.”

As I glanced toward her, a warmth came over her face.

“And when you can return to a place that’s changed your life in unfathomable ways, that also makes you extremely brave.”

I was just turning my attention back to the road when I heard, “Excuse me,” in the gentlest voice.