In the corner margin, a handwritten note caught her breath: “Pressure build = inevitable release.” The words were underlined twice. The date beside them was just weeks before the storm that had nearly killed him. It wasn’t just a hypothesis. It was a countdown.
Outside, a storm had rolled in again. Thunder rumbled over the ground like subterranean groaning. As lightning flashed against the windows, Helen realized the strange symmetry. The world above was trembling, just as it had seventeen years earlier, when no one had fully heard what Ward was trying to say.