“I’m sorry that he’s upset, but I’m not sorry I left,” I say. “That horse would have died.”
His eyes meet mine before he pulls onto the road.
“Everything will be fine, Mia.”
I know he means Maverick too.
I nod and look out the window.
For the first time since we left, I let myself breathe.
That lasts almost four minutes.
We’re on a narrow stretch of road bordered by dry brush and a shallow ditch when a vehicle approaches too fast from behind us.
“Stefano,” I say.
“I see it. Olivia, are you buckled?”
“Yes, Steffy.”
The vehicle behind us speeds up, and then everything happens at once.
It rams into us from behind.
Stefano jerks the wheel.
Livy screams.
Then a second impact slams into my side of the SUV with a sound so violent it steals the air from my lungs.
Metal shrieks.
Glass explodes.
The world flips.
Once.
Twice.
My head hits something hard.
Then everything stops.
For a second, there’s only silence.
A horrible, ringing silence.
Then Livy cries.
“Mama?”
I suck in a breath that feels like knives.
“I’m here.” My voice sounds wrong. “Baby, are you hurt?”
“My arm hurts.”
