The crash came at ten forty-three.

I read it four times, took a picture of the screen with my own phone, then shut hers all the way down so the battery wouldn’t die in a drawer before anybody official looked at it.

Charles was standing at the cafeteria entrance with a paper cup, reading the face of his wristband.

I held my phone out at chest level with the picture open.

“Ten twenty-one,” I said.