Chapter 1
Five hours after my husband left me beside Interstate 95 because his ex-girlfriend had a bruised wrist, he was standing under the fluorescent lights of an emergency room when a doctor looked him in the eye and said six words that finally made him understand what he had done.
Just okay.
I took a screenshot.
Then I slipped my wedding band from my finger.
It was a simple silver ring I had purchased myself three days before our courthouse ceremony because Kevin thought buying an expensive ring would “raise questions.”
I placed it inside my purse.
A strange calm settled over me.
I opened my email and found a message that had been sitting unanswered for eleven days.
Northline Documentary Studios, Anchorage, Alaska.
Final Employment Offer.
Six months earlier, their executive producer, Emma Brooks, had offered me a senior editing position after seeing my work on an independent environmental documentary.
I had shown Kevin the original offer.
He barely looked at it.
“Alaska?”
“It’s a great opportunity.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?”
“Because my mother needs you here.”
Not I need you here.
My mother needs you here.
I had declined the first offer.
Emma had reached out again when another
position opened.
This time, instead of saying no, I asked for two weeks to decide.
My deadline was Monday.
Sitting beside a dead Honda while my husband drove another woman to the hospital, I typed a reply.
Emma,
If the position is still available, I accept.
Sarah Miller.
I hit send.
That should have been the end of the night.
Instead, forty minutes later, headlights suddenly swerved across the shoulder.
I heard tires scream.
A delivery van hydroplaned two lanes over, clipped a sedan, and sent the sedan spinning toward the guardrail.
Everything happened too quickly to understand.
I remember throwing myself away from my Honda.
I remember metal crashing.
I remember falling down the muddy slope beyond the shoulder.
Then I remember cold.
Terrible, bone-deep cold.
Rain hitting my face.
My left shoulder burning whenever I tried to move.
I climbed maybe twenty feet before my arms stopped working.
My phone was gone.
Traffic continued above me.
Hundreds of headlights passed.
Nobody could see me.
I curled beneath a wet stand of brush and thought about the last text my husband had sent.
Please don’t make tonight harder than it needs to be.
I began laughing.
Then crying.
Then I stopped being able to tell the difference.
A state trooper eventually noticed my damaged Honda and found me below the embankment.
I was conscious when the paramedics arrived.
Barely.
One asked, “Who should we call?”
“My friend.”
“What’s her name?”
“Chloe Bennett.”
“Anyone else? Husband? Family?”
Kevin’s face flashed through my mind.
His jacket around Rachel.
The door closing.
The red taillights disappearing.
“No.”
The paramedic leaned closer.
“You’re married, ma’am?”
I could see my wedding information on the emergency screen attached to my medical profile.
Kevin Davis.
Spouse.
Emergency contact.
My teeth were chattering so violently the words
came out broken.
“Remove him.”
“Your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
I closed my eyes.
“He already chose.”
Then everything went black.
At that exact moment, twelve miles north, Rachel Hayes was being discharged from the emergency room.
Her wrist was not broken.
Not fractured.
Not dislocated.
It was mildly sprained.
The physician recommended ice, over-the-counter pain medication, and a brace for two or three days.
Kevin should have left.
Instead, Rachel complained of nausea, so he stayed while a nurse brought crackers and ginger ale.
That delay was why he was still inside the ER when my ambulance arrived.
He saw the state trooper first.
Then the soaked clothing sealed inside an evidence bag.
Then Chloe.
She came through the automatic doors like a missile, hair wild, coat half-buttoned.
Kevin stood.
“Chloe?”
She froze.
Her face changed.
“What are you doing here?”
“Rachel hurt her wrist.”
Chloe stared at the plastic brace.
Then she looked at Kevin.
“Where is Sarah?”
His silence lasted one second too long.
Chloe’s face drained of color.
“Kevin.”
“She was waiting for roadside assistance.”
“You left her there?”
“Her car broke down. I called a tow company.”
“You left your wife on I-95 during a flood warning?”
Rachel stood slowly.
“It wasn’t like that.”
Chloe turned on her.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
A physician stepped through the trauma doors.
“Family of Sarah Miller?”
Chloe moved first.
“I’m her emergency contact.”
Kevin’s head snapped toward her.
“I’m her husband.”
The doctor looked from one to the other.
“Mr. Davis?”
“Yes.”
His voice had suddenly become small.
The doctor checked the tablet.
“Your name was originally listed in her file.”
“Originally?”
“She asked the paramedics to remove you.”
Kevin stared at him.
“What happened?”
“She was found below the interstate embankment after a secondary collision damaged her vehicle. She has moderate hypothermia, a concussion, and a fractured clavicle. We’re also monitoring her for internal injuries, although initial imaging is encouraging.”
Kevin’s face went gray.
“How long was she out there?”
“Based on the trooper’s timeline, possibly several hours.”
Rachel whispered, “Oh my God.”
Kevin took a step toward the trauma doors.
“I need to see her.”
The doctor stopped him.
“She was conscious briefly during transport. She specifically requested that we contact Ms. Bennett instead.”
Kevin looked confused.
“Why?”
The doctor hesitated.
It was Chloe who answered.
“Tell him.”
The physician’s expression remained professional.
“When the paramedic asked if we should call her husband, Mrs. Miller said no.”
Kevin’s throat moved.
“What exactly did she say?”
The doctor looked directly at him.
“She said you had already chosen.”
Chapter complete
You have reached the end of this chapter.
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A few more worlds to get lost in after this chapter.