Page 92 of Afterglow

“Becca…” My voice is far away and wavers in a weird way. My vision swims and I make myself sit on the edge of the sofa and put my head between my knees.

“It’s going to be okay, Bryce. Mom and Dad should be there any second. I have to go. I love you, big brother. I’ll take care of her.”

The call goes quiet as the pressure in my chest builds and builds.

“Breathe, son.” Alex’s voice swims into my consciousness, still too far away, and I register the light pressure of his hand on my back.

I gulp in a breath, and it burns red hot down my throat.

A softer pair of hands lifts my head and frames my face. Delia. Her thumbs swipe my cheeks, taking with them the tears I didn’t even notice were leaking from my eyes. “Come on, we’ve got you.”

How they got me off the couch and into their truck, I have no idea, I don’t remember walking or helping in any way. All I know is I’m buckled in the back seat of their F-250. The comforting scents of leather and ranch dirt surround me, a warmth that can’t permeate the cold fear clinched around my heart.

I can’t control the shaking. I don’t have a jacket. It’s snowing.

It’s snowing and it’s all too familiar.

This road.

Slick pavement.

A mangled car on the side of the road.

The groan that claws its way out of my throat at the sight of it is excruciating.

As is the realization that Leanne was on her way to the ranch when she crashed. Because that’s her car right there, only miles short of the safety of my home. Alex has to slow down to pass it. Road crews are still cleaning up the debris and glass.

But Leanne isn’t here. She’s at the hospital.

And just like that, there’s a different scene in my head, a different day rushing to the same hospital…

Pouring rain pounds around me as I sprint for the hospital doors, everything in me pulled toward the place where my heart lies, with the woman brought here in an ambulance, with the baby boy she’s carrying.

Sarah. Sam. We named him last week, ready to finally stop calling him “baby boy.”

He’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.

The doors slide open and I slip on the floors in my wet boots.

“Sarah Butler,” I shout at the nurse, and she startles back. “She was brought in by ambulance.”

I ignore the solemn look in her eyes, the flinch at the corners, like she knows I won’t like what’s about to happen.

“Come with me, sir.” She stands in her blue scrubs and leads me to a private room. There’s no one here. No Sarah. “The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you, Mr. Butler.”

“But where is she? Where’s Sarah?”

She attempts to smile but it falls woefully short. This is wrong, everything is wrong. “The doctor will be right in.”

Then she closes the door behind her. The sterile room makes my skin itch. It’s too white, too bright, too clean… and it smells like disinfectant, making my stomach churn. I scrape my hands on the wet denim of my jeans and wait… and wait…

It feels like hours, but in reality, it’s only minutes before the door opens and a doctor walks in. His scrubs are blue.

“Mr. Butler, I’m Dr. Drayven.” There is no warmth in this man’s eyes, no hope, nothing but a quiet apology.

“No.” It’s all I can force through my windpipe. His face displays everything, and I can’t let him say another word because it can’t be true if he doesn’t say it.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Butler. We did everything we could to save Sarah. Her injuries were severe and we couldn’t stabilize her—”