The next?—
The headlights were blinding. A truck, coming too fast.
Then impact.
The sound of metal twisting, glass shattering.
Blood.
So much blood.
I woke up to the smell of gasoline and smoke, the world tilting in and out of focus. My whole body felt wrong, like I wasn’t all there. My head throbbed, something warm and sticky dripping down my face.
Daniel wasn’t moving.
Tanya’s body was crumpled against the door, her seatbelt still holding her in place.
Cynthia—
She was still breathing. Barely.
I tried to reach for her, but my arm wouldn’t move right.
Her eyes met mine, wild and desperate, but there was nothing I could do.
Nothing but watch.
Her lips moved, but I couldn’t hear her. I couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in my ears. Then her body went still.
Then Daniel. Then Tanya.
All of them.
I was the only one who made it out.
I spent two weeks in a hospital bed, trying to piece myself back together. My arm was broken, my ribs bruised, a gash down the side of my head that required stitches. They said I was lucky.
I didn’t feel lucky.
Once I was discharged, I planned to go back to San Diego until they reminded me of Maddie. She needed someone and I was the only one who could take care of her. Cynthia hadn’t filed her birth certificate. I hired a lawyer who said it’d be best if we just submitted it with my name as the father. Technically, I’m her birth father.
Once I was back, I made the decision. Sell the practice and move back to Birchwood Springs with Maddie. Maybe Mom could give me a hand with her. At least guide me as to how to raise the little girl who, like my life, felt like a gift after the tragic accident.
While I was preparing the place for the sale, I went through Dan’s office. His desk cluttered with patient notes, an empty coffee cup on the edge, like he was coming back.
But he wasn’t.
And neither was Tanya.
Or Cynthia.
I sat in his chair, numb, flipping through emails I had no intention of answering.
And that’s when I saw it.
A message chain between Daniel and Cynthia.
Then I read.
