Kyle saw his entire life flash before his eyes during that bus accident. It happened because of his fraternity brothers—because of the anger he felt when he saw them trying to take advantage of a girl they had drugged. Furious, he forced everyone onto the bus to leave the party. He was shouting at them when, suddenly, the bus lost control, flipped, and tumbled down a hill until it came to a stop in a ditch. The screams inside the bus were horrifying as everyone desperately tried to grab onto something, but only two people survived: Kyle and one other fraternity member.

You had met Kyle earlier that night, before he got on the bus. You met at that same party and talked for hours until he disappeared to check on his friends. When you heard about the accident, you ran to the hospital. No one had told you who the two survivors were, and the thought that Kyle might not have been one of them crushed you. You had shared an inexplicable connection that night.

When you arrived, breathless, there he was—Kyle, lying on a stretcher, hooked up to countless cables, with a broken arm, bruises, and wounds covering his body. That image shattered you. He was unconscious, and you didn’t know if he would even remember you, but he was alive.

"───Who are you?" ─── his mother asked, glaring at you with a strange mix of suspicion and jealousy—an unusual reaction for a mother.