“I didn’t say it was your fault,” the mother yelled back. “You’re focusing on the most unimportant part of this, though. You’re okay. I’m okay. There’s no reason to freak out.”
“You’re the one freaking out!”
“No, you are!”
“That’s because they’re never going to give me my license.” The teenager started wailing, which Hannah figured was her cue to move to the next vehicle. If the two women could argue that way, they were likely okay. It was in the next vehicle, though, that her darkest worries came to fruition.
“Oh, my ....” Hannah instinctively tugged on the door because the window had somehow — miraculously — remained intact. It took effort, and there was a terrific grinding noise when she finally pulled open the door, her hands shaking as she pressed her fingers against the woman’s neck.
She almost cried out in relief when she felt the woman’s heartbeat. It wasn’t steady — more thready than anything else — but it didn’t feel as if she was going to die any second. Because Hannah had no idea what to do for the woman, she moved to the other side of the vehicle. That window was missing — she could feel the glass crunching beneath her feet — but she had to contort to reach the man behind the steering wheel. He also had a pulse, although it was much weaker than that of the woman sitting next to him. His breathing also appeared to be shallow.
“Are they going to be okay?” a cracking voice asked from the back seat.
Hannah jerked up her eyes, surprised, and met the terrified countenance of a teenager. The girl looked to be sixteen at the most, maybe even younger, and tears were swimming in her eyes. “I don’t know,” Hannah replied. She didn’t think lying to the girl was a good idea, so she went with the truth. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t think so.”
Alarm bells echoed through the depths of Hannah’s brain. “What hurts? Are you bleeding? Where are you injured?”
“Everything hurts.” The girl started openly sobbing. “I want my mom. Why won’t she wake up? I’ve tried talking to her, to both of them, but they don’t say anything. I think she’s dead. That’s what you’re not telling me, right?”
Hannah emphatically shook her head. “Her heart is still beating. I swear it.”
“Then why won’t she answer me?”
“She’s unconscious.” Hannah forced herself to remain calm in the shadow of the girl’s apparent panic attack. It was no surprise that her emotions were all over the place given the enormity of the accident. “What’s your name?”
“What?” The girl looked momentarily baffled as she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie. “Oh, um, it’s Angel. Angel Bright.”
Hannah smiled. “That’s a very cool name.”
“My mom used to be a hippie or something. Or maybe her mom was a hippie. Somebody was a hippie and that’s how I got such a weird name.”
“It’s not so weird. It’s pretty. My name is Hannah Hickok. The police and paramedics are on their way. I need to know if you have significant injuries. I’m trying to put together a mental list for the paramedics when they get here.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Just worry about my mom and dad. I ... just ... they’re all I have.”
Hannah’s heart rolled. “It’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” Hannah agreed. “I have faith, though. You need to have it, too.”
CLEANUP FROM THE MESS TOOK AN excruciatingly long time. By the time Sheriff James Boone arrived on the scene, Hannah was officially exhausted. Because there was nothing more she could do to help, she’d moved to the curb to sit and watch the paramedics and Cooper work. That’s where Boone found her.
“You weren’t involved in this, were you?” he asked, alarmed.
Hannah shook her head. “Cooper and I had dinner at the restaurant over there. We were out taking a walk when it happened.”
“That’s good.” He realized what he said when it was too late to take it back. “I’m not saying it’s good there was an accident. I’m just saying it’s good that you and Cooper weren’t injured.”
Hannah’s smile was wan. “I knew what you were saying.”
Concerned, Boone put his hand on Hannah’s shoulder and leaned down to stare into her eyes, momentarily worried she was somehow in shock or something. What he mistook as glassy indifference was actually overwhelming weariness he realized after a beat and moved his hand to her hair to stroke it. For some reason — and he had no idea why because Hannah was an adult — she tickled every paternal instinct in his body. She was more than a decade older than his daughter and yet he looked out for her in almost the same fashion. “Where is Cooper?”
Hannah inclined her head to a spot across the street. “He’s helping. The paramedics have been through and they’ve already collected those who were the worst off. Now they’re doing a secondary run.”
“Okay.” Boone stroked her hair one more time. “I’m going to talk to him and then I’m sure you guys can get out of here. Just out of curiosity, though, do you know what caused the initial accident?”
Hannah pictured the odd lightning and hesitated. “I don’t know what it was. I thought it might be a storm but ... I just don’t know.”
Boone furrowed his brow. “Do you think it was paranormal?” He kept his voice low.
“I think it’s very likely that it was paranormal. What sort of paranormal, though, I can’t say.”
“Okay.” He straightened. “We’ll leave that part of the discussion for later. Don’t include it in your report in case one of my guys questions you.”
“Other people saw it,” Hannah offered. “I know because they were all looking in the same direction as me right before it happened.”
Boone hesitated and then nodded. “Fine. Mention the lightning but don’t use the M-word.”
“Mustache?”
“Ha, ha.” The smile he offered this time was warm and legitimate. “You’re a funny girl, Hannah Hickok. I’m glad you’re
