We pull up to the scene of the accident and I start my usual assessment when suddenly I can’t breathe. In the middle of the intersection a huge dump truck is completely embedded in the driver’s side of…a…navy blue Mini Cooper. My heart plummets to my feet. I can’t move. The guys are hopping off the truck and approaching the scene, but I’m rooted in place. I’m sure there are plenty of other navy blue Mini Coopers, but I know this one is hers because of the bright pink hibiscus sticker still clinging to the only solid piece of glass left in the back window.
“Jack!” Matt calls. “We need you out here. Looks like we’re going to have to cut the patient out.”
I stare at the sight before me and try to swallow but my mouth is dry. “Jack. Come on, man. We need to get in there. What’s wrong with you?” Matt walks back to me.
“It’s…it’s…Lucy.”
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