The Aegis of Noah Hart

7-The Wager

"Son...your mother was-maybe seconds from the exit for Nashville on 65 when the truck passed through the median and..."

Noah shakes his head back and forth as he grips the steering wheel before him. Squinting his eyes as the street lamps beam down through the windshield, he maneuvers wildly through the traffic by the ramp for the interstate before making the turn himself. This is the latest he's ever been on his own but more impotently the only time he's stolen his father's car to go somewhere. 

Driving through the dark of night, he looks down at his phone ion the passenger seat. The screen glows. Words appear saying "Dad: 5 MISSED CALLS" though Noah ignores it swiping a button on the side to mute the ringing sound. With a deep breath, he studies the road signs on his right as he remembers the excitement he just left at his house. 

"DON'T LIE TO ME!"

"Noah, I'm not lying. I-"

Noah jumps from the bed and leans his chest into his father's. His eyes glaring into the man's very soul. David starts to bring his hands up to the boys shoulders only him to keel violently away from him. Noah starts to open his mouth when his aunt steps between them.

"Please don't shout at your father. I know you're upset right now, but your mother wouldn't want us to fight each other. She'd want us to stay strong and try to hold on to the good-"

"Good what?" 

Noah curls his lips up and down as tears well up in his eyes, "What...good? You want to tell me what is so good about Mom dying?"

No one speaks for a moment. The redhead stands perfectly still and upright, cleaning his fists as thick tears stream down his cheeks. His face feels hot. His breath heavy. 

I know a truck driver hit her. I can...I can even imagine what it would look like, feel like-but-but that isn't good enough. No, Dad and Aunt Susie want to sit her and chat like we're talking about going to the doctor for a shot or getting my tonsils pulled. Are they serious?

Noah wipes his tears but keeps his gaze intently fixed on his bare feet. Swallowing the lump in his throat as best he can, the boy opens his mouth to speak.

"Mom was just here and now-now you're both..."

Noah pauses to collect himself. He can feel his heart racing. His tongue ready to blurt out at any moment "why couldn't it have been you two instead."

"I just want to see her for myself. The police need me to identify her body, right?"

"Noah, you don't wan to see her like-"

"DAD!"

Noah interrupts his aunt with a snap, darting his eyes aggressively at his father in hopes of making him jump. Instead David simply drops his head and frowns.

"Noah...I...I did that already-"

"I don't care! I want to go, too. I want-"

"NOAH, THERE'S NOTHING LEFT OF HER!"

David's outburst sends shivers down the boy's skin. He bites his tongue and lowers his arms. Images of his mother, sweet and beautiful and so full of life one moment now mangled and burned flood through his mind. Though logically he can say that a large truck would have crushed her vehicle and anyone along for the ride, the poor child can't let go just yet.

Noah takes a deep breath and steps past his father and aunt towards the door. Looking down the steps, he spies the doorway to the kitchen.

"Son," his father asks, "what is it? I can get it for you."