"She’s trying to recover," George added, sighing. "We just have to accept that she might never be able to give us what we need."
The table murmured in sympathy—for him.
I sat there, frozen, letting them paint me as the broken, barren victim. I didn't fight back. I didn't scream. I just stared at the candle flame flickering in the center of the table, imagining it burning the whole house down.
The drive home was quiet. The rain had started to fall, slicking the winding roads with a dangerous sheen.
I sat in the back seat. George was driving, with Donna in the passenger seat. She was humming softly, playing with the sapphire necklace around her neck.
"George, slow down," I said, noticing the speedometer creeping up. "The roads are wet."
"Relax, Eliza," he scoffed, watching me in the rearview mirror. "I know how to drive my own car."
"But—"
"I said relax!"
He turned his head to glare at me.
That was the moment the world ended.
A horn blasted—loud, deafening, terrified.
George whipped his head back around, but it was too late.
Twin beams of blinding light filled the windshield. A massive truck was skidding across the center line, jackknifing on the wet asphalt.
"George!" Donna screamed.
He slammed on the brakes. The tires locked. The car spun.
CRASH.
The sound was like the earth splitting open. Metal screamed against metal. Glass shattered into a million diamonds. The world tumbled over and over, a kaleidoscope of darkness and pain.
Then, sudden, violent stillness.
I was hanging upside down. The seatbelt cut into my chest like a knife. My head throbbed with a blinding rhythm, and warm liquid trickled into my eyes.
"Ugh..."
I tried to move, but my legs were pinned. The door was crushed inward.
"George?" I croaked.
Smoke began to fill the cabin, acrid and choking.
"Donna! Donna, are you okay?" George’s voice was panicked, coming from the front.
"My stomach!" Donna shrieked. "George, it hurts! The baby! Oh god, the baby!"
I saw George scramble out of the driver's side window, cutting his hand on the broken glass. He fell onto the wet road, then scrambled to the passenger side. He ripped the door open.
"I've got you," he panted, pulling Donna out. She was clutching her stomach, wailing.
"George..." I whispered, reaching a hand out toward the gap between the seats. "Help me... I'm stuck..."
George looked back.