Her hand found mine, warm and grounding and she pulled me to a corner, away from the buzzing crew members. “Okay, listen to me,” she said softly, her tone calm but firm. “You’re having a panic attack again, that’s okay. It’s okay, but we’re going to work through it together. Can you look at me?”
I turned my head slowly, her face coming into focus. Her eyes were steady, locked on mine, and it felt like an anchor in the storm.
“Good,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “Now, breathe with me. In through your nose for four counts.” She exaggerated the motion, taking a long, slow breath in.
I followed her lead, though my inhale was shaky and shallow.
“That’s okay,” she said. “Let’s try again. In…one, two, three, four. Now out through your mouth, slow and steady.”
She demonstrated, and I mimicked her, my exhale hitching at first but gradually smoothing out.
“Keep going,” she encouraged. “You’re doing great.”
Her hand stayed on mine, her thumb brushing back and forth in a rhythm that matched our breathing. The noise around me started to dull, the edges of my panic blurring into something softer.
“That’s it,” she said after a few minutes. “You’re getting there.”
I nodded, my breaths finally evening out. The tightness in my chest loosened, replaced by a heavy exhaustion that left me slumping forward.
“Better?” she asked, her other hand brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead.
“Yeah,” I croaked. “Thanks.”
She smiled gently, her hand lingering on my cheek for a moment before dropping away. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m here for you, remember?”
I let out a shaky laugh, rubbing my hands over my face. “I don’t know what happened. It just…hit me out of nowhere.”
“It happens,” she said softly. “But you don’t have to face it alone. Not last time, not now, not ever.”
Her words settled in my chest, grounding me even further.
The call came through the radio, time to get to the car. I stood up, and so did Lucia, her hand slipping into mine for a brief moment before letting go.
“Go out there and do what you do best,” she said with a wink. “And remember, I’ll be right here, rooting for you. Win me a trophy, would ya?”
I nodded, the panic replaced by a renewed sense of calm. “All right.” I smirked and leaned in for a quick kiss, and Lucia pulled her hands to my face.
“Go get ’em,” she whispered, squeezing my arm. I took one last deep breath and nodded, I knew how to do this next part. Racing was in my blood. I sent a wink to her, squaring my shoulders and getting in the zone.
The roar of the engine vibrated through me as I slid into the cockpit. Qualifying had gone well, the car felt dialed in, I just needed to translate that to a win today. Everything about the setup needed to click. The balance, the grip, the sheer power. My nerves were always sharp before the start, but this time I took an extra moment to pause. Remembering those affirmation cards I kept in my bag that Lucia had given me. I knew it was cheesy, and my team would totally make fun of me if they saw them, but they meant the world to me. Plus, they worked. Lucia called it manifesting, even if you didn’t feel it, say it and bring it into the world. I went over a few in my head as I slid into my seat.
When the lights went out, instinct took over. The car launched off the line. My team’s strategy was on point, and by Lap 10, I was holding first, and fifteen seconds ahead of Theo in second place according to my last update from Simon over the coms. The track was alive under me, every corner flowing into the next as if the car and I were one.
The radio crackled with Simon’s familiar voice. “You’re in a good rhythm, Alex. Keep this pace, and manage those tires.”
I acknowledged with a double click on the button, my focus razor sharp. Then the rain began. It wasn’t in the forecast and I only got a warning over the radio ten minutes out. Two crashes had been reported behind me and the gap between me and Theo was rapidly closing as he caught up to me while the safety cars came out, but the moment it was cleared I zoned in. The laps blurred as I fought to maintain position. Every overtake, every defensive move—it all felt perfect. The car was an extension of me, responding to every subtle input.
The crowd noise barely registered, but I knew the stands were alive even now as the rain poured down. Brazil had a way of amplifying the atmosphere, and I could feel it even through my helmet. Everything was lining up for a strong finish. Until it wasn’t.
It happened in an instant. Coming out of a high-speed section, the track ahead erupted into chaos. Debris scattered across the asphalt like shrapnel, glinting under the harsh sun. My spotter’s voice crackled in my ear, sharp and urgent: “Debris on track. Collision ahead!”
But it was too late.
A car spun wildly just ahead, smoke billowing from its tires. I had mere seconds to react. Instinct took over—I yanked the wheel hard to the left, trying to swerve clear of the wreckage. The tires locked briefly, the car shuddering beneath me as I fought for control. At this speed, though, control was a fragile illusion.
The back end snapped out, and before I could correct it, the world twisted violently. My car spun, and then something clipped me—hard.
The force launched the car into a roll, flipping end over end. Time seemed to warp, stretching into disjointed moments as gravity abandoned me. I was weightless and trapped all at once, my body thrown against the restraints. My head slammed into the padding as the car turned upside down, metal groaning and screaming around me.
