“I left him with Mr.

Bell.

He told me to go for help if the beam moved again.

I thought I could reach the truck first, but the road was flooded.”

“Who’s Mr.

Bell?” Brenda asked.

Toby wiped at his face with a shaking wrist.

“A man we met.

He isn’t dangerous.

I swear.

He was helping us.”

I dialed emergency services before asking another question.

Toby tried to speak over me, insisting the responders needed the west access gate rather than the bridge itself.

I repeated everything he said to the dispatcher.