Delia looked at Eric, who was still trembling from the aftershocks of his terror. His strange words echoed in the sudden, ringing silence that followed the crash. Lose you again? Just like the last time? She saw the raw, unguarded panic in his eyes, a look she had never seen before.
"Eric," she said again, her voice soft, "What do you mean by that?"
He stuttered, his mind clearly scrambling to cover the slip. "Oh, well… well," he began, avoiding her gaze. "I just… the crash. Seeing that wagon… it was just like the stories. The stories about your mother's accident. For a moment, I thought…" He shook his head, running a trembling hand through his hair. "It was just the shock. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."
Before Delia could press him further, the sound of more horses and another heavy carriage arriving cut through the air. Constable Davies and his team had arrived, their prisoner carriage pulling up just behind the wreckage.
