was the longest eight hours of Noa Almale

By Chelsey St-Pierre
The Suburban

The eight-hour drive from Atlantic City was the longest eight hours of Noa Almaleh’s life. As she sat in her Air BNB room rental, stunned and in shock, her friends quietly packed her bags, handed her a water bottle, and slipped a snack into her purse — a snack she couldn’t bring herself to eat, she was preparing for a car ride that she will never forget. Without a word, they guided her out to the car, and the long drive back to Montreal began. Through the night, Noa spoke on the phone with friends and family, her voice steady but heavy with disbelief as she repeated the story again and again. “The word ‘squished’ is engraved in my brain after that drive,” she told The Suburban in an interview where she plainly shares her perspective.

The circumstances of Codey’s death were sudden and tragic. Codey Daly, 29, a beloved figure in Montreal’s restaurant scene, died while helping a friend back a truck and boat trailer into a driveway in Les Cèdres. The truck lurched, pinning Codey against a garage door. Paramedics rushed him to the hospital, but he did not survive. The driver, someone Codey trusted, was arrested and charged with impaired driving causing death.

The recent court process brought fresh pain. “Thirty people from our family showed up for the court date, but the accused didn’t come. He wasn’t obligated, but it felt like a slap. His lawyer said, ‘He’s busy.’ Like the rest of us don’t have jobs? The judge didn’t seem impressed. That was just the cherry on top.”

On the morning of the tragic accident, Noa and Codey Daly had been planning their future together. They had put a deposit down on a rental condo in Saint-Zotique, a rent-to-own arrangement that was supposed to mark the next step in their life as a couple. They spoke about their achievement on the phone that morning, along with their plans for the day. Codey was off to a boating trip with “the boys”, while Noa was in Atlantic City with “the girls”, many who were friends and family members of Codey. It was a day of celebration, joy and good fun for the couple. “I love you!” they said to each other. Little did they know, that would be their last conversation. Everything was about to fall apart.

It began with a frantic phone call from one of Codey’s friends, just before dinner time, who was panicked and urgently asked Noa for Codey’s mother’s phone number. Noa was in the restaurant parking lot, after a fun filled day, looking forward to a glass of wine. His words made it sound as if Codey had been “bumped”, as Noa describes it, in a driveway. But, Noa sensed something was wrong. “He was panicked, but I wasn’t. I was worried of course. I didn’t understand why he was so scared though, while making it sound like it was just a small accident.”

Noa herself called Codey’s mother first to calmly let her know what had happened, rather than share her contact information with someone who may incite panic, when at that point, from what was described to her, was not a reason to panic. She then went to join her friends at a table in a Gordon Ramsay restaurant they were all looking forward to. At this stage, she was already planning to return home early, but figured that his mom would be with him until she could catch a flight the next morning.

Shortly after, Codey’s mother called Noa back from the hospital. During that call, Noa overheard a nurse’s voice saying Codey had “severe trauma.” The call then dropped abruptly. The wine had just been served at the table, but Noa became alarmed and decided to call her own mother to expedite plans to return home.

About 20 minutes later, Codey’s mother called again. This time, her voice was broken and raw with grief. “He’s dead.” Noa could barely speak. “I just kept saying, ‘What do you mean, what do you mean?’ I couldn’t process it. It didn’t feel real.”

As Noa put the phone down, her friends were looking to her for an update. “He’s dead,” was all she could manage to say, while the words didn’t make sense to her.

Overwhelmed, she ran out of the restaurant. “The next forty-five minutes, I blacked out. Six of us just cried on the floor of the casino. My brain blocked it all out. I did not remember that anyone came up to us or what was happening around us. I was told later that many did.”

Her friends took charge realizing Noa was in shock. No questions, no talking-just silent support. They took her back to the hotel, packed her things, got her into the car, and began the drive north. Noa continuously called people, answered calls, her voice steady but weighed down by disbelief. She just stared out the window into the night, headlights reflecting as they passed by and repeated the story over and over for eight long hours.

Noa’s mother met her halfway through the trip. Together, they went straight to Codey’s family home. The porch was dimly lit, where Codey’s mother sat with her niece and a friend, faces pale and sleepless. His seventeen-year-old brother stood nearby, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “He was destroyed. None of them had gone to bed. There’s nothing you can say to make it better.”

Instead of moving into their new home, Noa found herself at a funeral home, staring at caskets and halls, forced to focus on decisions she never imagined making at 23. “I was supposed to be moving in. Instead, I was helping plan Codey’s funeral.”

The practical realities only deepened the shock. The condo deposit paid that morning became another painful obstacle. “The broker wouldn’t give it back. She kept saying, ‘I still need my commission,’ even after Codey died. We’d signed a promise to lease, but he died the same day. She was fighting for her cut while we were planning his funeral. It was surreal.”

Instead of stepping into their future together, Noa found herself surrounded by silence and heartbreak. She remembers Codey’s little brother, unable to meet anyone’s eyes, and the way grief filled every room. “My heart broke all over again.” There is no tidy ending, no easy comfort. Noa holds on to the last words Codey ever said to her: “I love you.” They are what she carries now while living a future that she never imagined facing alone. n