"Relax, Eliza," he scoffed, watching me in the rearview mirror. "I know how to drive my own car."
"But—"
"I said relax!"
He turned his head to glare at me.
That was the moment the world ended.
A horn blasted—loud, deafening, terrified.
George whipped his head back around, but it was too late.
Twin beams of blinding light filled the windshield. A massive truck was skidding across the center line, jackknifing on the wet asphalt.
"George!" Donna screamed.
He slammed on the brakes. The tires locked. The car spun.
CRASH.
The sound was like the earth splitting open. Metal screamed against metal. Glass shattered into a million diamonds. The world tumbled over and over, a kaleidoscope of darkness and pain.
Then, sudden, violent stillness.
I was hanging upside down. The seatbelt cut into my chest like a knife. My head throbbed with a blinding rhythm, and warm liquid trickled into my eyes.
"Ugh..."
I tried to move, but my legs were pinned. The door was crushed inward.
"George?" I croaked.
Smoke began to fill the cabin, acrid and choking.
"Donna! Donna, are you okay?" George’s voice was panicked, coming from the front.
"My stomach!" Donna shrieked. "George, it hurts! The baby! Oh god, the baby!"