"Dr. Crane?"
The color was draining from Niles Crane's face as he stared at the center of the rooms floor.
"Dr. Crane?" Another tried to recapture his attention.
"Niles?" One of the females said softly.
Somehow that snapped him back to reality.
"I'm – I'm sorry. I was reliving the… the… what happened," he said, putting a hand to his mouth. He looked up for a moment to pan across the eyes of the board members that sat at the table in front of his.
Mrs. Parsons gently cleared her voice. "We know that this was very dramatic for you, Dr. Crane. Why don't you take a moment to compose yourself? Have some water."
Niles took the glass of water off the table in front of him and gulped it.
"We would like to go over the details of this again, Dr. Crane," the hefty man said. "At your convenience. Take your time."
Niles took a deep breath. "I – I'd like to stop now. I'd like to go home. I want to see my wife."
"Certainly, doctor. But first, we must go over these details one more time."
Niles abruptly stood. "I want to see my wife," he said more firmly this time. "We can adjourn again tomorrow."
"Doctor Crane…"
Niles held up his hands. "I'm sorry. We're done for now." He walked out.
The drive home was a long one, yet he had to keep his mind on his driving. Why, the ordeal had him shaken so that he... "Oh my God," he thought. He had not made the call. His wife must be thinking that he was half way across the United States by now. He managed to find a place to pull the car over. With all of the excitement… with all of the officials, the policemen, the emergency crew… it was devastating. He retrieved his phone. That's when it hit him. His hands were trembling so that he had dropped his phone. He vigorously grabbed the steering wheel with both hands to steady himself. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Meditation was the key, he told himself. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He opened his eyes. Seattle was beautiful. Everything was beautiful. He was just grateful to be alive. He fumbled for his phone. When he found it, he flipped it open. Dear Lord, he had forgotten, he had shut it off.
Turning it back on, he found 36 missed calls. His beloved wife had been trying to reach him. But why? Of course, this was probably splashed all over the news like some circus event. He put his phone back in his jacket. He wasn't far from the home. He would see her in person. He would probably break down in front of her, but telling her over the phone was not what he could bear right now.