Another jarring impact sent me flying into the barriers. The deafening crunch of steel colliding with steel reverberated through the cockpit, followed by a series of sharp alarms and the acrid smell of burning rubber. The car came to a gut-wrenching stop, mangled and lifeless.
For a moment, all I could hear was my breathing—ragged, shallow, desperate.
Then the radio crackled back to life.
“Alex, are you okay?!” The voice was panicked, cutting through the haze in my mind.
“Alex! Please report.”
I swallowed hard, forcing my mouth to form words. “I’m…I’m fine,” I croaked, though I wasn’t sure if it was entirely true. My hands moved on autopilot, patting down my body, checking for pain or anything out of place. Adrenaline surged, numbing everything but the roaring in my head.
“Medical team is on their way,” the voice assured, but I barely registered.
I leaned my head back against the seat, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. The noise of the crowd outside had shifted, the collective gasps and murmurs of thousands rippling like waves. One thought cut through the fog:Lucia and Gianna. They’re watching.
I couldn’t let them see me like this—not trapped, not broken. I had to move.
Taking a steadying breath, I blinked my eyes open and tried to focus on the outside world. Shapes blurred, shifting into clarity. A familiar figure emerged through the chaos—Matteo.Why was he here? What was he doing?
The medical team swarmed the wreck, their shouts mixing into the ringing in my ears. Matteo was shouting something, his face pale beneath his racing cap, but I couldn’t make out the words. Everything felt muffled, like I was underwater.
Hands reached into the cockpit, steady and efficient, guiding me out. I was lightheaded, my legs unsteady as they hauled me to the medical car. My eyes flicked back to the wreckage, and what was left of my car. The halo above the cockpit was dented but intact, the only thing that had kept this from being so much worse.
I sank into the seat of the medical vehicle, Matteo climbing in beside me. His lips were moving, his hands gripping my shoulder, but all I could hear was the dull thrum of blood rushing in my ears.
I turned my head to him, blinking slowly as the haze began to lift. “I’m okay,” I whispered, the words more for myself than anyone else.
He exhaled, his grip tightening briefly. “You scared the hell out of us,” he said, his voice breaking through the fog at last.
I let my head fall back, staring at the ceiling of the medical car.I’m alive.That singular thought rooted itself in my mind, overriding everything else.
32
LUCIA
It happened so fast that I didn’t have time to process what I was seeing.
One second, I was leaning against the garage wall, Gianna perched on my lap as we watched the screen showing the race, our matching Belen headsets covering our ears. The next, a flash of debris scattered across the track, and chaos unfolded in the high-speed section.
My heart stopped. Matteo’s car spun out of control, his tires smoking as he skidded toward the runoff area. My hand flew to my mouth, stifling a scream as Gianna clutched at me, her tiny fingers digging into my jacket. The screen cut to a different angle. My brother’s car came to a stop, smoke curling from the back, but he was moving. I exhaled a shaky breath as he climbed out, pulling his helmet off and throwing it aside. Relief hit me like a wave, but it was short-lived.
Because then I saw Alexander.
His car collided with another, debris clipping the nose, sending him into a spin. My stomach twisted into knots as the car flipped, the tires catching just enough to launch it into the air. It tumbled violently, end over end, before slamming into the barrier.
On the screen, Matteo was running—no, sprinting—toward the wreckage. His face was pale, his expression unreadable, but I knew. He was running for Alexander.
The crowd noise in the background turned into a dull roar, a wave of gasps and murmurs rippling through the grandstands. My pulse hammered in my ears as the medical team swarmed the scene, their fluorescent vests a blur of motion around the crumpled car.
“Mommy,” Gianna’s tiny voice quivered, pulling my attention back. Her eyes were wide, filled with fear, as she looked up at me. “What’s wrong?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back the lump rising in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. My lips moved, but no words came out. Instead, I hugged her close, my hand trembling as I ran it over her curls. Staying brave for her, staying brave for him.
Through my headset, the radio crackled faintly. For a few agonizing seconds, there was nothing but static. Then, finally, “I’m…I’m fine.”
Alexander’s voice. Shaky, but there.
I exhaled a sob of relief, gripping the headset as if I could will him to hear me. “He’s okay,” I whispered, mostly to myself. “He’s okay.”
