"No… no, this can’t be happening," Archie whispered.
Before he could fully process the damage, Thomas spoke again, voice trembling.
"Sir… there’s more bad news."
Archie whipped around, eyes blazing. "For fuck’s sake, just say it, Thomas!"
Thomas took a shaky breath. "Mrs Knight’s car… fell from the Thames Bridge. A sixty-eight-foot drop. The police and rescue teams are on the scene."
A cold, suffocating silence blanketed the room.
Claire clung to Archie’s arm, her nails digging in, but he didn’t react. His hands were still clenched, veins bulging under the pressure.
I smiled faintly.
From behind the wheel, I glanced at my phone one last time.
The wreckage of my Mini Cooper, floating in the murky depths of the Thames, was displayed across the news.
Goodbye, Archie.
