“Adeline,” a voice said from behind her. It was Lauren, one of Adeline’s friends from high school who had made the trip from college in California. Many of Adeline’s friends who were off at school on the east coast couldn’t make it home for the service, but quite a few were there, and in that moment, Adeline was incredibly grateful.
She turned to her friend, who was standing in the kitchen, and bolted from the dining room, away from Constance.
In the great room, Elliott stood by the fire, a glass of champagne in his hand, a fork held at the ready. Adeline knew what was coming next.
Constance ventured out of the dining room, eyes still on Adeline.
Elliott tapped the glass. The ding-ding-ding echoed through the room, extinguishing conversations like a bucket of water on a campfire.
Hiro stood next to Elliott, looking exhausted, eyes bloodshot as if he had been up the entire night before.
By the accordion door that led to the lanai, Daniele stood beside Ryan, gazing wearily at Elliott. As he began to speak, she slipped her arm around Ryan’s shoulders, as if bracing him for a windstorm about to come.
“In the tradition of the greatest Starfleet Medical Officer in history, Dr. Leonard McCoy, I’ll just say this for myself: ‘I’m a scientist for God’s sake, not a speechmaker.’”
The lame Star Trek joke sent a ripple of laughter through the room, but the tension was still there. Apparently, it wasn’t lost on Elliott.
“Let’s start with the elephant in the room, shall we? We’re used to that in science: dealing with facts, even if they make us uncomfortable. And the fact of the matter is that you’ve come here today for a memorial service for a murder victim and for the person convicted of that murder. I applaud you for that. I thank you for being here, and I hope that you will take what I’m about to say to heart. I hope you’ll look at the facts too.”
Elliott swallowed and took a deep breath.
“Sam Anderson was my best friend. He was one of my oldest friends. If, right now, something happened in my life, and I was in trouble or needed help or just needed someone to talk to, he is the first person I would call. That’s how fresh the wound of his departure is. Like a limb that’s been chopped off, and I still can’t get used to the fact that it’s not there. Because he was always there for me. He was more than a friend. He was family. And I simply can’t get used to the fact that he’s gone. I don’t think I ever will.”
Elliott stared at Adeline.
“And I won’t accept it. As long as I live.”
Elliott took a deep swig from the champagne glass.
“Nora is someone I knew professionally for a long time but had never gotten to know personally until we worked together on Absolom. She’s someone whose intellect I have always admired. She was a sharp mind, but there are a lot of those in our field. What I can say about her—that I can’t say about many—is that she never got too invested in her own ideas. She wasn’t blinded by her own discoveries. She wasn’t in it for personal gain. Or fame. Her interest was always the truth and helping people, and I think that’s what made her such a great scientist. It’s that same quality that made her such a great person. I found that out when our Charlie died.”
The champagne glass in Elliott’s right hand began to shake.
“It’s a sad truth that the people who understand tragedy the best are the ones who have gone through it. Sam was my rock. But when Charlie…”
Elliott clenched his teeth and swallowed, the words coming out slower now.
“When Charlie was taken from us, I was adrift and what I needed was to get back to shore. I was going through life like a lucid dream. Hopeless. Aimless. And Nora was there for me. More than anyone I ever met, she had this almost supernatural ability to listen and make you feel at ease. It was a selfless kind of gift that drew people in like a vortex. I don’t know what you call it. Animal magnetism or charisma or what, but she had it. For her, that gift wasn’t a loud, ostentatious sort of charisma. She was like the sun in the sky, burning and warm and unwavering and pulling you in with gravity you couldn’t escape.” Elliott paused. “That’s what she was to me back then. My world was frozen, and she was the sun that helped thaw it out. I don’t know how she did it. Maybe it’s because she had lost her husband in a car accident a few years after they were married. One minute he was there. The next, he was gone. Just like our Charlie. And now, just like Nora herself. And Sam.”
Adeline felt as though the walls were closing in on her, as if Elliott’s words were shrinking the house, suffocating her.