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and gasped. “The dome. It’s finished.”

“1866, I think. It’s being renovated now to repair hundreds of cracks.”

His eyes remained fixed on the building, slowly roving from one side to the other. “Could ye trade vehicles with Jack tomorrow? I’d like to get started.” If Charlotte wouldn’t take him back, he had to find another way. A plan was forming, and learning to drive was an integral part of it.

“Sure, why not? But if you crash, the impact will set your recovery back.”

He returned his attention to the Capitol. “I won’t crash.”

Charlotte made a sharp turn, pulling into the flow of traffic on Constitution. The buildings, streets, cars, people, colors, lights, movement, and loud noises bombarded his senses. His head pounded and his heart raced. He had to block out some of the stimulation or he’d lose his mind. He focused on the cars and studied the way the drivers maneuvered through traffic. By focusing only on cars, he was able to shut out other distractions.

“A car’s pulling out of a parking spot up ahead. Can ye park there?” he asked.

“Where? I don’t see it,” she said.

He pointed ahead. “Next block. A little red car.”

“I see it now.” She put on her blinker and stopped, giving the driver of the red car room to pull out. “We’ll have to walk about a block. Can you manage it?”

“I can. It might take me longer to walk back, though.” He had to keep pushing himself. He couldn’t return to Washington an invalid. He eased out onto the sidewalk, careful of his incision this time. No longer focusing on the cars, he looked around at the buildings. “The Washington Monument is finished, too, and still there. I don’t know why it surprises me. I grew up in Scotland. Castles and churches have been around for centuries.”

She buttoned up her coat against the fall breeze. “The dedication was in 1885.”

“It was the tallest building in America at the time. I doubt it’s true now.”

“Still the tallest building in Washington.”

He tilted his head to one side, enjoying the way she gestured with her hands, the bright expression on her face, and a spark of something unidentifiable in her eyes, as if she was trying to hide something from him. He didn’t think it was about his health, and he already knew about Lincoln, so what was it? Whatever it was, he’d find out. Discovering secrets people wanted to keep hidden was, after all, his job.

He switched his attention back to their surroundings. “Ye know a lot about the city.”

Charlotte put coins in a box on one of the poles lining the street. “Jack had an internship between his second and third year in law school. I spent most of the summer here with him and learned my way around.”

Braham turned in a slow circle, taking a picture with his mind’s eye. “It’s hard to believe it’s the same Washington.”

“What do you notice most?”

He glanced up and down the street, shaking his head. “Ye have to pay to park yer Range Rover.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s the price you pay for a premium parking space.”

“Ye don’t have to give it water or hay, but I’m sure ye feed it some type of fuel. What makes it run?”

“Gasoline.”

He puzzled through the tidbit of information for a moment. “Do ye buy gasoline at a livery stable?”

“Hmm. Not exactly. We call them gas stations. You can find them throughout the city and at all the exits along the highway. The next one I see, I’ll point it out.”

He nodded again, checking items off a mental list.

“What else is different about the city?”

He gently took her elbow and led her down the sidewalk. He wanted to control their pace, but mostly he wanted to touch her. “There’s no space between buildings. The streets are paved. It doesn’t smell bad, but there’s a distinct odor I can’t identify.”

She sniffed. “Exhaust from the cars, probably. What else?”

He closed his eyes for a moment to conjure up a picture of Washington in his time. Then opened them, blinking. “Troops aren’t marching up and down the streets. It’s noisier now, but much cleaner.”

She pointed to a sidewalk running perpendicular to the one they were on. “Let’s go that way. I want you to see a monument. We can take the elevator. There’re too many stairs for you to climb.”

His heart gave a leap at the thought of getting into another moving box. “I didn’t like the hospital elevator. Too confined, and it went too fast.”

“This one is slower. I don’t think you’ll mind.”

He shook his head. “Smaller would be even more confining. I’ll take the stairs.”

The trees along their route shivered in the wind. The red and gold leaves glistened in the late morning sun. He would never have described Washington as beautiful, but he saw beauty now. War made cities ugly. Made life ugly, too. For a few moments, he would breathe in peace and beauty and let it calm his restless soul.

Charlotte pointed ahead. “Here’s what we brought you to Washington to see. It’s called the Lincoln Memorial.”

He stared at a Greek Doric temple and the door slammed on any chance of calming his restless soul. Grief welled. “Did ye think seeing this would change my mind?”

“I don’t know if anything will change your mind. But you need to see what Lincoln means to the American people today.”

“Don’t ye understand? I don’t care how people feel today.” His throat was thick, raspy with grief, and the words came out hoarse and unrecognizable. He closed his eyes, hands clenched hard into fists at his sides.

She shook his arm. “Braham, look at me.” He opened his eyes but looked away. She moved to stand in his line of sight. “If Lincoln hadn’t been assassinated, he never would have gained immortality. If you love him, how can you possibly take that from him?” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I’ve met him. I stood before him in awe. Do you think I would have grown

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