Page 332 of The Long Way Home


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“Were you in the car?”

She nods again.

I frown. “But you’re okay?”

She shrugs. “The car hit her side.”

I shove my hands through my hair.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know—” She shakes her head, looks confused. “We were driving, everything was normal. Then someone rammed into the back of us. I think we must have sort of spun into the other side of the road? And then this other car drove straight into her.”

I press my hand into my mouth.

Hate that this happened to her. Hate that I wasn’t there with her.

“Where are your parents?”

“On their way.” She nods. “Mum’s in Greece with the boy-toy and Dad and Mars are in America but flying back now.”

I nod. Look at her properly. She’s still in the clothes from the crash.

Walk over to her.

“Hey.” I kneel in front of her. “Are you actually okay?”

She nods, teary. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I pull her to her feet, wrap my arms around her.

“They checked you out, Bridge?”

She shrugs a little. “Just a couple of scratches. A bump on the head.”

“You look pretty shaken.”

She nods. “I am.”

“Go home—” I nod at the door.

“No.” She frowns at me. “She’s my sister.”

“Well, she’s my everything, so—” Give her a dumb smile.

She flicks her eyes, fake-annoyed but real-pleased.

“I’ve got this, Bridge. I mean it.” I give her a look. “Henry’s downstairs. He’ll take you home. Shower, have a rest.”

She frowns, chews down on her bottom lip.

“You’ll call me when she wakes?”

I nod.

“You won’t leave her?” she asks.

I give Bridget a long look.

“Never again.”

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