Side became air.
And then—
we came to a brutal stop.
Upside down.
The SUV lay crumpled in a ditch, the roof crushed inward, windows shattered, the frame groaning under the weight of its own damage.
Shards of glass rained down around me like jagged, deadly snow.
The smell hit next.
Burning rubber. Fuel. Hot metal.
A faint, dangerous scent of gasoline beginning to leak into the cabin.
For a moment—everything went silent.
White. Numb.
Disoriented.
Then—sound returned in fragments.
A high-pitched ringing filled my ears.
Distant horns.
The crackle of the dying engine.
The groan of twisted metal settling.
My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.
I was still alive.
Barely.
Pain came back next.
My head throbbed violently.
Something warm trickled down my temple—fresh blood mixing with the dried streaks already clinging to my skin.
And the seatbelt—
It dug into my chest with merciless pressure, holding me suspended upside down like a broken puppet left hanging after the performance had ended.
My vision swam slightly.
Through the fractured side mirror, I saw them.
Movement.
Outside.
Six.
