The thought of anyone being in that car surviving is unfathomable.
A ringing in my ears starts as I read the details of what happened that horrible night.
The bastards who caused such horror weren’t teenagers participating in an illegal race, either. The perpetrators were off-duty police officers.
That’s not the worst of it, though.
Reading about lives taken is what guts me. Alyssia’s mother was killed instantly, her father trapped in the car and had to be cut out, but he died on the way to the hospital.
And Alyssia.
A deep ache, unlike anything I’ve felt before comes over me.
The couple’s fourteen-year-old daughter was trapped in the debris for two hours before she was finally cut out and rushed to the hospital. She remains in critical condition.
I grab my phone, checking the time. It’s too early to contact her, but I need to see her.
CHAPTER 23
Alyssia
“Mhmm, I’ve been craving this all day.” I rub my hands together as the waiter places my bacon, spinach, and tomato sandwich in front of me.
Across from the square table Jeanette, the project manager of our team, chuckles, while Gabriel, seated to my left, also swoons when her bacon and gorgonzola salad is placed in front of her.
It’s the Monday after Travis’ Miami race and my colleagues and I have gone to a café and sandwich shop not too far from our office for lunch.
“That looks amazing,” Gabriel says to Rachel, the fourth member of our quartet, looking over at my sandwich. “I should’ve gotten that.”
“Do you want a piece of mine?” I offer.
She holds up her hand and shakes her head. “I could never steal food from a pregnant woman.”
We all chuckle. “You’re not stealing since I offered.”
She’s adamant though. “I’ll just have my soup because I need to keep my figure to fit into my dress for the gala.”
My hands stop, halfway to my mouth. “Dress? Are you going to the gala?”
Three pairs of eyes hone in on me.
I move my gaze to all three of them. “What?”
“You have started looking for dresses, no?” Jeanette asks. “The gala is in July to kick off the summer festival.”
I nod. “I know when the date is.” I hesitate in reminding her that over the past few weeks I’ve been the one gathering the data to find out what works best in appealing to said donors who will be in attendance at the gala.
“Then you should also know you need a dress.”
“But I, uh, wasn’t planning on attending. Most of the time in my previous work projects I rarely was asked to attend the events I did research for.”
Jeanette shakes her head. “Not this time. We are a small office with a lot of responsibility. Our donors and the administrators at the main office want to make sure we are pulling our weight. Which means …”
“Showing up to the gala,” Gabriel adds with a small frown. “I didn’t like the idea either,” she tells me. “I became head of social media to stay behind the camera, but it has its advantages.”
“Don’t worry, Alyssia,” Rachel assures. “After the Monaco Grand Prix, you will have met everyone anyway.”
My stomach drops.
