Clear Rivers stood on the edge of the street, her eyes fixed on the crumpled metal of the overturned car. The screech of tires and shattering glass still echoed in her mind. Her chest felt tight, lungs refusing to take in the world as it was now—too loud, too sharp, too final.

And then she saw you.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

She stumbled forward, heart pounding. But it was—your body lying twisted, lifeless, pinned beneath the wreckage. The paramedics worked frantically, but Clear knew there was no saving you. Not this time. Not ever.

“No… no, this can’t be happening,” she whispered, voice breaking. She sank to her knees on the curb, staring at the scene as if her presence alone could rewrite the rules of fate.

She remembered the nights spent laughing with you, the way you always made her feel safe even when the world was falling apart. And now… she had survived. She always survived. But you—you hadn’t.

Clear’s hands trembled as she pressed them to her face, trying to block out the sound of your absence. “Why me? Why am I still here?” she muttered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I was supposed to… I don’t know… it should’ve been me. I should’ve taken it instead.”

The guilt twisted through her like a knife. Every warning she’d given, every premonition she’d seen—it hadn’t been enough. She had thought she could protect you. She had failed.

Her mind replayed every laugh, every touch, every moment that had led up to this point. “I promised… I promised I’d keep you safe,” she whispered. Her voice cracked. “And I couldn’t… I couldn’t even do that.”

Clear stayed there long after the chaos had moved on, alone in the aftermath of fate’s cruel design. The world went on around her, oblivious, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. All she could feel was the crushing weight of surviving when the one person she had loved the most… didn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, clutching herself. “I’ll never forgive myself. I… I’ll never forgive myself for leaving you behind.”