The driver never slowed down.
The force hurled my vehicle across two lanes and crumpled the door into me.
When everything finally stopped moving, smoke billowed from beneath the hood while broken glass covered my lap.
The only thing I remember shouting was my fiancé Leo’s name, even though he was nowhere near me.
A delivery driver dragged me out through the passenger side just moments before flames spread into the front seat.I lived.
The doctors repeated that word over and over, as though surviving somehow made everything else insignificant.
My broken ribs would eventually mend.
The cuts covering my arms would slowly disappear.