When the car hit her, she landed twenty-one feet away. The impact with the car didn’t kill her. The fall - specifically the meeting of head and pavement - did.
I learned about the twenty-one feet, and the specific cause of death, from the police report. But it provided only slight refinement of information I already had.
The police report also mentioned that the lone witness hadn’t gotten the license plate number.
I’d been busy limping toward her, trying to reach her, ten steps behind just like I’d been for the past week. Only this time the ten steps were literal as well as metaphoric. The police report didn’t speculate on whether those ten steps made a difference, whether the witness might somehow have pulled her to safety, might even have caught her like some enormous fly ball settling into a second baseman’s glove.
I knew the truth, though....