“I might have mentioned it.” She sighed.
“I see.”
The silence was excruciating. They had dropped down into a heavy cloud layer. The flurries had stopped but the wind was blowing drifts onto the side of the road over the asphalt.
“You need to slow down,” she piped up. “You don’t have snow tires and the conditions aren’t safe.”
“At any point did Scott Miller also ask you to do a story on me?”
Fog swirled by the windows, adding to the sense of claustrophobia. She could lie. Maybe she should lie. That would be better for everyone. But evading was easier. “Yes. But I decided that I don’t want to mix my work with... you.”
“Uh-huh. Nice sound bite. Except for that whole part where I happen to be your work.” The Porsche wheels skidded on the next corner. Neve shrieked as the back of the car fishtailed, but with a muffled curse, Tor had the car back under expert control.
“Tor, please—”
The fog broke and she flew forward as he slammed on the brakes, just as she registered the scene.
A silver minivan had spun out, hit the side of the mountain. The front was crumpled in like an accordion, glass scattered across the road.
“Oh my God.” Her hand flew over her mouth.
“Jesus Christ, that’s Amber’s van—my sister-in-law.” He threw open the door. “Olive’s in that car.”
Neve was out of the car in a flash and ran after him. Pain shot through her ankle and she grit her teeth, ignoring the fire spreading up her calf. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but making sure the people in that van were going to be okay.
She looked into the front window and recognized the beautiful woman—Amber, Maddy’s sister—behind the steering wheel. The airbag had deployed. She had a gash under one eye that bled, but otherwise she seemed okay, just dazed. Tor tried to tear open the side door, but it was jammed.
Neve pounded on the glass. “Are you okay?” she shouted at Amber.
The woman lolled her head to one side. “The girls? It’s so quiet. Are the girls okay?”
Neve hit 911 and the dispatcher answered on the second ring. She gave their location and a brief description of the accident, unable to give an update on the girls in the back as the windows were tinted. Tor made a guttural sound, like a wild animal, as he hauled on the door. Muscles bulged in his neck. His knuckles were white. With a groan, the door gave way. But only a foot. He tried again. Nothing.
“Girls?” he shouted. “Olive.”
Someone cried, “Help!”
Tor wedged his shoulder into the gap, but he was too big to fit.
But she wasn’t.
“I can get through that,” Neve said, tearing off her jacket. “Step back. The ambulance is on its way. Listen to me. They are going to be fine.” She rested her hand on his tight jaw. “I promise.”
“That’s my baby girl in there.”
She rested a hand on his cheek. “I’ve got her, I promise.”
There were a lot of things that sucked about being five foot. Short jokes. The way clothes fit. The fact top shelves might as well be the summit of Everest. But when it came to crawling into a crashed van, there was a distinct advantage.
A girl curled into a ball in a middle seat, and whimpering. “Are you okay?”
“Is the van going to blow up? I saw this movie one time where there was an accident. Gas leaked. There was a fire.”
“Shhhhh,” Neve crooned, placing a hand on the girl’s arm. “Nothing is going to blow up. I promise. The police are coming. So is an ambulance. Everything is going to be just fine.”
The two younger girls were in the back. One, Olive’s cousin, was holding her shoulder. The knot in her clavicle made Neve’s stomach churn. She’d clearly broken it. Olive was unconscious. Like Amber, she had a head wound. There was blood. A lot of blood.
She didn’t want to unbuckle her or lay her down flat. First aid wasn’t her specialty, but it looked like Olive had hit her head pretty hard. Blood smeared the back side window. There was a chance she’d hurt her neck and if they moved her it would make the injury worse.
