On a quiet evening months later, Vance drove out to the stretch of road where the crash had happened. The barrier had long been replaced. The scorch marks were gone. To anyone else, it was just another bend where drivers eased off the gas without knowing why.
He stepped out with the compass in his hand. The sky held its rain for once. Headlights slid by at regular intervals, each car carrying people who would never know this was where one life ended, and another had been stuck in place. Vance stood there a long time.