Everything was still dark.
Avery clawed her way back to consciousness, but the world refused to give her light. She could hear voices but blurred, urgent, overlapping and feel something warm trickling down her face. Something wet pressed behind her ears.
She tried to open her eyes. At first it was all shadows, then shapes. A minimarket sign buzzed above her in green and red. Dozens of faces hovered over her, strangers' eyes wide with alarm. She realized she was lying on the dirt, her bag stuffed awkwardly behind her head like someone had tried to make her a pillow.
Dizziness spun her in circles. Did I crash? What happened? Her hands fumbled against the ground, searching.
"Don't move, Miss. Just lay down," an old man said firmly, appearing above her. He pressed something into her palm, its her phone. "Here. You dropped this."
The screen was unlocked, as always.
Avery sat up halfway despite his warning, her body shaking. She opened the camera app with trembling fingers, angling it toward her face.
Her breath caught.
The reflection staring back was unrecognizable. Blood slicked her forehead, pouring down into her eyes, streaking her nose and lips, soaking her blouse. She looked like something torn out of a horror film. She doesnt feel anything, not hurting at all, maybe because the adrenaline still there.
The phone slipped from her hand. Her stomach lurched. The dizziness won. She collapsed back to the ground, her ears filled with the frantic chorus of strangers calling for an ambulance.
Then another voice. Familiar.
"You are her brother?! Over here!" the old man shouted.
Her brother's voice broke through the chaos. "Ave! Oh my God, Ave, don't close your eyes, stay with me!" His hands were on her shoulders, trembling, trying to steady her.
But her body was heavy, leaden. She couldn't move. She couldn't answer. She can see that Luke take her phone and do some typing. All she could do was think, in fragmented bursts: "How did this happen? What about my laptop?" And then, the cruel truth hit I really got into a motorcycle crash.
Someone whispered above her, "She was out cold for thirty minutes."
Time blurred. Five minutes, maybe ten. The crowd parted as a car screeched to a stop. Hands lifted her carefully, keeping her head steady, sliding her into the back seat.
And then her.
Phoebe.
The person Avery had been thinking about all night.
The person she had promised herself she wouldn't call.
Phoebe's face leaned over hers, pale and stricken, eyes wet with terror.
She gripped Avery's bloodied hand, her voice trembling but fierce.
"God, Avery… what did you do to yourself? Don't you dare leave me like this."