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“She’s my everything,” Eric repeated. “But I never told her.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
GEORGIA OPENED HER eyes. She remembered the car and the white-haired, wide-eyed man behind the wheel. She’d seen a woman too, in the passenger seat. She was young and pretty, probably about Georgia’s age. The white-haired driver had sped toward her, crossing the double line. He had been going so fast, too fast. She’d swerved, avoiding a head-on collision. And then she’d lost control. She remembered the Jeep turning over.
And fear. The memory of her panic was crystal clear. It had paralyzed her. She’d lived through months in Afghanistan to die here? In a car accident? No, that couldn’t be right. Her mind rallied, fighting to stay present, to keep living. For Eric. For her brother. For herself. And for Nate.
Nate—she was supposed to pick him up. Now. Who would get Nate? That was her last clear memory before the pain won and she’d briefly drifted into nothing.
But now, she was awake. Alive. But still in the Jeep.
She blinked, slowly assessing her injuries. Her head throbbed, but the pain where the belt pressed against her lap was worse. Probably because she was hanging upside down and that belt was the only thing keeping her from landing on the car’s ceiling. Or what was left of the crushed roof.
Broken glass—the windshield—covered everything she could see. She tried turning her head, angling for a closer look. Pain shot through her. She moaned, closing her eyes.
“Ma’am?” A man’s voice called to her. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” The word felt awkward on her tongue, and she tried again. “Yes, I can.”
“We’re going to get you out of there,” he said. “The firefighters are working now.”
“If I can reach the buckle,” she said, lifting her hand. She could get herself out of here and find the voice. “I can crawl through the window.”
“No, ma’am. Please try to remain still. We’ll get you out,” the voice said. “Until we determine the extent of your injuries, try not to move.”
“I can do it,” she said. She wasn’t safe here, upside down. Hurting. Trapped. “I need to get out.”
She reached again for the buckle. Pain shot through her arm. So intense. So strong. She tried to fight it. Her head swam. Darkness descended. She pushed against it. But her strength—it wasn’t there.
“SHE’S BREATHING.” IT was the same voice. “Checking for bleeding.”
Hands moved over her limbs. She opened her eyes and saw nothing but blue sky, clear, no clouds. She tried to turn her head and realized she was strapped down. When they’d pulled her out, they must have strapped her to a backboard.
“Ma’am?” A young man hovered over her. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Georgia,” she gasped, struggling to form the words. “Why are we out in the open?”
“We’re moving you to an ambulance now.” He looked up and a second later the stretcher beneath her shifted, rocking forward.
She studied the man. He wore a paramedic’s uniform. But not military. She was home. She closed her eyes. A car accident. The white-haired man. She remembered. She hadn’t been strong enough to get out, to stay awake.
“Do you know what day it is?” the paramedic asked.
Georgia searched her memory, but came up blank. She went back, starting at breakfast. She’d made eggs for Nate when she got to work, not pancakes.
“It’s a school day,” she said. “I need to pick Nate up from school.”
“Your son?” he asked, his gaze sharp as he looked down at her.
She tried to shake her head, but couldn’t. “No. I’m his nanny. But he’s counting on me. I need to get to him. Please, you have to let me up.”
“Not yet, Georgia. We need to get you to the hospital and assess your injuries,” he said. “We’ll call Nate’s school and his parents.”
She heard sirens blaring. They were close, but unable to turn her head, she couldn’t see them.
“The other car,” she said, panic rising again, unbidden and unwelcome. “What happened to the other car? The driver? Is he OK?”
“He’s in critical condition,” the medic said. “They’re taking him to the hospital now.”
