from the airbags and sweet, leaking
ery nerve ending. She is pinned between the
wn her forehead, st
st her stomach. A dull, heavy ache pulses deep in
n. He shoves a deflated airbag off his chest, his left shoulder visib
croaks. Her throa
er. His shoulders tense, bu
ter console. He rips away the twist
re the seatbelt dug violently into her collarbone, a dark purple bruise alr
r open. He drags Cristina out of the w
d Blair from the floorboards, an
Escalade's crumpled hood. Orange
he watches her husband carry his sister art turns to ash. She is nothing t
braces her right hand against the crushed r
n the cabin. Blinding ago
er right hand, her drawing hand,
distance, cutting
le. They use a crowbar to pr
urns her head. Through the flashing red lights, she sees Gar
bloody trench coat in th
spital, bypassing the waiting room an
n a stiff hospital bed unde
t. "It's a miracle, Mrs. Bruce. The feta
her good left hand. A ragge
scaphoid bone is shattered. Even with surgery, you may never
a second car crash. Her
shes in. A small white bandage c
bs her left hand, his voice trembling with f
o die. There is no love left in her eyes. On
/1/113764/coverbig.jpg?v=78e252b30de3cc2b512fbb50d462d3d6&imageMogr2/format/webp)