The day we almost lost her was the day my whole world changed.
—
It was a sunny day. Almost perfect. It was warm for the beginning of March, and I had been spending the afternoon hanging out on the back quad behind the science building. I was a freshmanat Virginia College and I had a break between classes.
I hadn’t wanted to go back to my dorm room. My roommate was a bit on the odd side, spending all night in front of her computer doing God knows what.
“We should go to the Pi Kappa Phiparty tonight. Liam was asking if you were coming,” my friend Talia said, handing me the sunscreen so I could apply it to my arms.
My stomach twisted a little at the mention of my longtime crush, Liam Hollister.
“He was?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant—and failing.
“Hell, yeah, he was. He’s hot for you, Han!” Talia exclaimed, nudging my leg with the tip of her shoe.
“Well, maybe we can go for a little while. Not long, though. I have to study for my systems development midterm,” I told her. Talia rolled her eyes.
“You need to stop being such a nerd, Hannah. Guys like Liam Hollister come around once in a lifetime! You need to jump on this ship before it sails right on past you,” my friend lectured, and I laughed. She was right. I did study too much. Plus, what would one night hurt?
To think that up until that point my life had been so simple. My biggest worry had been whether going to a party would interfere with my study time.
My head had been full of thoughts of cute Liam and what I would wear to make him notice me.
Then my phone rang.
I was still laughing when I answered it.
“Hannah?” my mother’s frantic voicehissed in my ear.
I stopped laughing.
Thoughts of Liam Hollister vanished.
My heart started to thud painfully in my chest.
I had never heard such panic in her voice.
“Hannah. Something bad has happened. It’syour father.” She took a deep breath. “And Charlotte…”
—
I continued to hold Charlotte’s hand as we watchedFamily Feud. Every now and then my sister’s eyes would drift my way, as if to make sure I was still there. I gave her hand a squeeze, even though I knew she couldn’t feel it.
I felt sad. Grief-stricken.
And of course angry.
Our family had lost so much.
And all because a bunch of lazy government officials thought cutting a few corners to save some money on their bottom line was more important than safety.
All it took was a badly constructed stretch of road. Too much rain. Cracked and eroding asphalt. My father lost control of his car. Thrown from the vehicle, he was killed on impact. Charlotte was trapped inside with severe trauma to her head and spine.
Three more people lost their lives that day in the same location. Dozens more were injured. And when my mother, along with the other families, inquired about the conditions of the road, they were blocked at every turn by people more worried about covering their asses than about making things right for the victims’ families.
I had been so angry. My father was dead. My sister would never be able to walk or care for herself. And we were given a paltry apology and nothing else.
It wasn’t enough.
