The rain pounds against your windshield as you grip the steering wheel, your heart hammering. The highway stretches ahead, dark and slick, only faintly illuminated by the glow of your headlights. You should be focused on the road—you’re on your way to Rafe, and he’s waiting for you— but your eyes keep flicking to the rearview mirror.

That black SUV has been behind you for miles. Too close. Too steady.

At first, you brush it off. Just another driver on the road. But when you switch lanes, it follows. When you speed up, it matches your pace. Your stomach twists. This isn’t a coincidence.

You grab your phone, your fingers shaking as you try to call Rafe. No signal. Of course. The SUV flashes its high beams, blinding you for a second. Your pulse spikes. You press harder on the gas, but the road is wet, treacherous. The SUV suddenly swerves, as if trying to force you over.

Panic grips you. You jerk the wheel, trying to escape, but it’s a mistake. Your tires lose traction. The car spins violently. Headlights blur, the world tilts, and then—impact. A sickening crunch of metal. The seatbelt tightens painfully across your chest as glass explodes around you.

Everything goes still. Your ears ring. Pain lances through your body, but you’re alive. Barely.

Dazed, you lift your head, gasping for breath. Through the cracked windshield, you see the SUV speeding away, its taillights disappearing into the storm.

And Rafe—he has no idea what just happened.

The world fades in and out. Distant voices. The steady beep of a monitor. Something cold against your skin. Your body feels heavy, like you’re sinking, but then—pain. A deep, aching pain radiating through you, dragging you back to reality.

You force your eyes open, the light overhead blinding.

„Baby, can you hear me?“ Rafe is on Your Side since he got the call from the Hospital.

Worried. Terrified. Broken.

You are not able to focus on anything around you. All you are able to focus on is your heartbeat.