The scorching wind surged into the car through the shattered windows, fragments of glass pelting down like hailstones. The rear tire had blown out, and Jack Hugh gripped the steering wheel, unable to control the vehicle. On a deserted suburban road, a black Lincoln kept spinning wildly.
Rosie could no longer differentiate between directions; she just knew that as long as she held onto Charles, she wouldn't lose her way. There was no time to wonder how he managed to keep his balance.
Just holding him felt reassuring.
The car spun out of control on the road. The young girl kept her eyes shut, clutching him tightly. Suddenly, Jack Hugh let out a yell, and the car smashed through the guardrail, tumbling down the hillside.
Rosie felt the presence of death. Just like in a past life, the car rolled, her body suspended weightlessly. She gazed blankly, sensing faintly that at the moment of the car's crash, Charles encircled her head with his arms.
