Panic swallowed her whole.
At the last second, instead of steering into him, she jerked the wheel toward the edge of the road, trying to slip past without touching his car.
Alexander saw it—the hesitation, the terror flickering across her face.
Without a second thought, he wrenched his steering wheel back into her path.
The collision exploded through the night.
Metal screamed as the cars slammed together. Alexander’s vehicle spun sideways, crashing into the barrier with a violent jolt. Sparks sprayed across the asphalt, tires shrieking as rubber burned against the road.
Mia’s car slammed into his, wedging tight. The force finally killed its momentum.
A horn blared wildly—then cut off.
Silence followed.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Mia struggled to keep her eyes open as the world tilted. Pain bloomed through her body, sharp and spreading. With trembling effort, she turned her head toward Alexander’s car.
There was no movement.
No sound.
Her heart dropped into pure, icy terror.
“Alexander…” she whispered, her voice barely more than breath.
The night swallowed her words whole.
***
It was six hours later when Mia’s eyes finally fluttered open.
White walls greeted her. White. Clean. The silence pressed in, broken only by the faint hum of machines somewhere nearby. The air was cold, seeping through the thin hospital gown clinging to her skin.
She blinked again.
Hospital.
Her chest tightened as muffled voices drifted in from the corridor. Turning her head, she saw Hazel standing near the door, one hand covering her mouth as she spoke in a hushed voice into her phone.
Mia pushed herself upright instantly.
Pain flared at the sudden movement, but memories of the accident slammed into her all at once—metal tearing, speed spiraling out of control, Alexander’s voice shouting through the phone. Her breath hitched. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, feet touching the cold floor as she tried to stand.
The sound drew Hazel’s attention. She spun around, eyes widening. She hung up immediately and rushed toward her.
“Mia, what the hell are you doing?” Hazel cried, reaching for her. “Don’t move—you have a head injury!”
But Mia barely heard her.
“Where’s Alexander?” she demanded, her eyes darting around the room.
It was a private room. Just one bed.
“He’s fine,” Hazel said quickly, panic creeping into her voice. “Look at yourself—you’re injured. Don’t you feel the pain?”
