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So do the tears.
And when Sasha climbs into my bed, hugging me, I don’t stop her. Instead, I hug her back.
Chapter Fifty-Five
It’s dark out when we climb into the SUV to head home. Ansel has some sort of family thing he needs to be back for, so his mom told him to be home no later than eight. Ansel, probably not wanting to risk getting in trouble, insisted we all be up by five and on the road no later than six. It’s five-forty-five so I think we’ve done pretty good.
This time, I sit up front with Ansel since Sasha wants to try to get more sleep.
It isn’t long until a soft snore emanates from the back seat and I know she’s out.
“Did you have a good time, Meadows?”
“Yeah, it was fun. I’m sorry you got stuck trying to teach me and didn’t really get to ski yourself.”
He flashes me a smile in the dark car. “Doesn’t matter, I had fun anyway.” Stifling a yawn, I lean my head against the cool window. “Put the radio on whatever you want. Or here, plug your phone in.” He grabs it, holding it out to me.
“Whatever you want on is fine.”
He sighs, letting the cord fall, and turns up the station that’s currently playing.
“Seth, you cool back there?” he asks.
There’s a grunt in response and Ansel laughs, shaking his head.
I shoot Sage a text letting him know we’re on the road. Almost immediately he sends a thumbs up. I wonder if he’s slept at all. He’s such a worrywart.
The road leading out of the resort is a long and windy one. It’s even worse leaving than arriving since now it’s downhill.
The headlights shine across the snowy road and—
“Ansel! Look out!” I scream, but it’s too late.
He slams on his brakes, but the car slides, slamming into the deer that ran out from the woods. The airbag explodes in my face and the SUV spins, crashing into the embankment. My head hits the dashboard, wetness seeping from my nose, and then blackness coats my vision like a final curtain call.
The beeping of machines is an all too familiar sound, and with my eyes closed, for a moment I think I’m back in the hospital after the shooting and all of the last few months have been a dream. Blinking my eyes open, I let out a groggy moan. My face hurts like hell.
“Where is my sister?” I hear shouted in the hallway, followed by a couple of “Sirs”.
A moment later, the door to the room I’m in is shoved open and Sage stands there, pale, and panic stricken.
It takes me by surprise when he drops to his knees, and suddenly several nurses are there, trying to help him up.
When he finds his legs again, he rushes to my side. “What happened? I got a call you were hurt and in the hospital. I came as fast as I could. I barely listened to what they told me.”
“I-I don’t remember,” I stutter.
Sage screams at the nurse, “She has brain damage! She doesn’t remember! Do something!”
About that time, bits and pieces come flooding back.
The deer. The car spinning. The slam of metal against rock.
I hold a hand to my head, feeling a throbbing beginning in my skull.
“Sir, she hit her head and has a concussion. Her memory is going to be foggy.”
I drown out Sage’s next rant as he goes back and forth with the nurse.
