Page 80 of The Broken Keys

“Lily?” I reach for her again, my fingers finding her shoulder. “Stay with me, love. Help is coming.”

Her eyes flutter open, unfocused and confused. Blood drips down the side of her face, soaking into her hair.

“Callum?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“I’m here. I’m right here.” My hands are shaking. I can barely hold on to her. “Don’t move, okay? Just stay still.”

“I can’t…” She tries to shift and cries out in pain.

“Don’t move! Please, Lily. Just stay still until the paramedics get here.”

People are gathering now. Someone tries to peek in through the windshield to assess Livianna. Someone else is talking to 911, giving them the street names and describing the crash.

I keep my palm on Livianna. It’s the only point of contact I can maintain through the wreckage. Her breathing is shallow and rapid. Shock, probably. Or worse.

“You’re okay.” I have no idea if that’s true. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Her eyes drift closed again.

“No! Lily, stay with me.” I squeeze her arm gently. “Keep your eyes open. Focus on me.”

“Hurts.” The word comes out slurred.

“I know. I know it hurts, but you have to stay awake.”

Sirens wail in the distance, getting closer.

“The baby.” Her hand moves to her stomach.

My brain short-circuits. “What?”

But her eyes are closed, and she’s not responding.

“Lily? What baby?” I shake her, careful not to move her too much. “Livianna, what are you talking about?”

Nothing.

The sirens are louder now, maybe a minute away. People are still swarming around us trying to help, but nobody can get her out. The driver’s side is completely crushed, and the passenger side is wedged against the light pole.

She’s trapped.

My hands are covered in blood. I’m unsure if it’s hers or mine. I wipe them on my jeans, but they’re still unsteady.

“Come on, Lily. Stay with me. Forget everything and remember how much I love you.”

An ambulance screams around the corner with its lights flashing. A fire truck is right behind it. Help is here. She’s gonna be okay. She has to be.

But what did she mean about a baby?

The paramedics rush over with equipment, assessing the situation. One of them, a woman with kind eyes, places her arm in front of my sternum and pushes me away.

“Sir, we need you to step back so we can work.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

“You need to give us space.” She gives me a quick once-over. “Are you injured?”

I glance down at my hands. Blood from the glass cuts is present, but nothing serious. “I’m fine.”