United States, Huston Texas

Year 2020

Anitta rubbed the ring on her left hand once more, she tended to do this often these days. She could still remember the day Peter proposed to her, it felt like ages ago but it was only last year. They haven't gotten married as of yet, they were only engaged. This was supposed to be the time of her life, so why was she so sad?

Her finger stopped moving as she sighed and adjusted the rearview mirror. So much happened within the last year, too much for her. Mr. Scott passed away, and he was one of the only fatherly figures in her life. He wasn't the most joyful person to be around, but he did give her good advice.

It was an unexpected event, there wasn't really anything wrong with him from what she knew. He didn't smoke or drink, he just simply died. A heart attack is what they told her at the hospital.

Not many people showed up to his funeral, a couple of his neighbors, some old people she wasn't acquainted with and members of the service he was a veteran of. It was small, not more than twenty people.

She missed him, even if he could be a bit grumpy at times. She always pictured him at her wedding, just thinking of that made her smile. There were many times she sat and watched him work. Anitta never understood what he was doing at the time, but now that she was thirty she felt like she did.

Everyone needed a hobby, something they could do that would help them focus and relax. For Mr. Scott it was blacksmithing and crafting, he always was doing something with his hands. For her, it was collecting trains, something she never went out of her way to tell people. It wasn't the most glorious hobby in life, but it was hers.

Anitta liked trains, although she couldn't be sure if it was because Mr. Scott made her one out of wood when she was a child. It was in her bedroom on the top shelf, she never got rid of it. While she did enjoy collecting them, they wouldn't pay the bills.

That's why she was a nurse. It wasn't a field she thought she would be in growing up, but, after her mother got sick she changed her mind. Honestly, it was the best decision she made. The only regret Anitta had was that she wished she had become one sooner.

Anitta adjusted the rearview mirror again, this time pausing to look at her reflection. Her tired eyes stared back at her, there were dark circles beneath them after a grueling twenty-four-hour shift. The patients never stopped coming, and tonight was especially tough. Five critical patients had been brought in after a severe car crash, and many others had arrived with flu-like symptoms. The ER was jam-packed, the flu season hitting hard this year.

She ran a hand through her long brown hair, which cascaded down her back in loose waves. It was getting long again, almost time for a cut. "What am I doing?" Anitta shook her head as she set the rearview mirror back in its normal position.

Lowering the sunvisor, she grabbed the photo she kept there and gazed at it. It was a picture of her, Mr. Scott, and her mother, taken outside her old high school on her graduation day. It was the only picture she had of the three of them together, at least the most recent one.

Mr. Scott, an older black man with a grizzled beard and kind eyes, stood proudly on her left. He wore his usual stern expression, but she could see the pride shining through. Her mother, a beautiful woman with a warm smile, stood on her right, beaming with joy. Anitta, in her graduation cap and gown, stood between them, holding her diploma.

She let out a small laugh. She was so young then, and they made it out to be a big deal. Honestly, she was just happy she didn't end up pregnant or fall into drugs like some of her friends. It was the one thing her mom kept reminding her of, annoyingly so. That was ten years ago, how times have changed since then.

Anitta traced her finger over their faces, feeling a deep pang of loss. She missed them both so much. They had always believed in her, even when she doubted herself. She smiled through her tears, remembering how Mr. Scott had teased her about tripping on stage during the graduation ceremony, and how her mother had fussed over her gown.

She took a deep breath, carefully placing the photo back in its spot. "Okay, let's get through this," she whispered to herself, starting the car. She had just pulled out of the parking lot when her phone rang. The familiar sound of her iPhone 11, encased in a Minnie Mouse phone case, filled the car. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was Peter. She wondered what he was doing up; it was already ten at night, and he normally would be asleep by now.

She connected the Bluetooth and answered the call, "Hey, Peter."

"Hey, where are you?" Peter's voice came through the speakers, sounding slightly concerned.

"I'm leaving the parking lot now," Anitta replied, her eyes scanning the road as she drove.

"Didn't you just get off?" he asked.

"Yeah," she admitted, stifling a yawn. "I did."

"Maybe you should take a nap before driving home," Peter suggested. She could picture the furrowed brow he must have had as he said it.

"I already did," Anitta reassured him, managing a small smile despite her fatigue. "Just a quick one, but I'm good."

"Alright," Peter said, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. He let out a grunt, and Anitta's curiosity was piqued.

"What's wrong?" she asked, glancing at the rearview mirror out of habit.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, but Anitta could tell there was something on his mind. He changed the subject. "Have you eaten anything?"

"Kind of," she answered vaguely, knowing he wouldn't be satisfied with that response.

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"Are you up for some Thai food tonight?" he asked.

"Thai food sounds amazing," Anitta said, a small smile playing on her lips. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard, noting the late hour. "But I don't think any Thai restaurants are open right now."

"I can make some," Peter offered.

Anitta laughed, the sound genuine despite her exhaustion. "Peter, you can barely make pancakes."

"Hey, as long as I can cook up some ramen noodles, I'll be fine," he replied.

"Are you really going to cook?" Anitta asked, skepticism creeping into her voice. "Because honestly, I don't think I could eat anything. I just want to go to bed."

Peter sighed softly. "Alright, it's just been a while since we had Thai, that's all."

"How about tomorrow?" Anitta suggested.

"I'd like that," Peter said, but then he hesitated. "But I have to go to California tomorrow. I've got a flight to catch at nine."

"Oh yeah, that's right, you have a business meeting," Anitta said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"Why do you have to say it like that?" Peter asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Say it like what?" Anitta replied, feigning innocence.

"Like the way you just did," Peter insisted.

"I said it normally," Anitta retorted, rolling her eyes. She thought back to the time Peter had gone on a 'business' trip, and she found out he wasn't even working that day. She had called Derek, Peter's friend, to see if they went out to play basketball, and he had confirmed it. She knew it was a lie because Peter was supposed to be at work, and he never mentioned anything about playing basketball.

Anitta sighed, pushing the memory aside. She didn't want to start an argument, not when she was so tired. "Look, I'm just tired, okay? We'll talk more when I get home."

"Yeah, alright," Peter said, sounding resigned. "Drive safe, okay?"

"I will," Anitta promised. She ended the call and focused on the road ahead.

As she drove, her mind wandered. She hoped this trip to California was really for business. Trust had been a tricky thing lately, and she wasn't sure if it was her own insecurities or something more. Either way, she didn't have the energy to dwell on it tonight. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and escape into sleep.

She needed something to lift her spirits. "Hey, Siri," she called out.

"Yes?" Siri responded in her calm, mechanical voice.

"Play 'September' by Earth, Wind, and Fire," Anitta requested. Whenever she felt like crap, this song always brought her some comfort. Mr. Scott had played it often when he took her places, along with other classic hits.

"Playing 'September' by Earth, Wind, and Fire," Siri confirmed. Moments later, the familiar upbeat tune filled the car, and Anitta felt a bit of the tension ease from her shoulders. She hummed along, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

The joyful melody and vibrant energy of the song brought back fond memories of Mr. Scott. He would always crank up the volume, singing along with a smile on his face. It was one of those small, happy memories that had stayed with her through the years.

She was lost in the rhythm when suddenly, a car sped past a red light, forcing her to slam on the brakes. Her heart pounded as she gripped the wheel tightly, her breath caught in her throat. She had narrowly avoided a collision.

Before she could fully process what had happened, a loud crash echoed through the night. Anitta looked out the window and saw the speeding car had collided with another vehicle at the intersection. The impact was severe; metal crumpled and glass shattered, sending shards glittering across the pavement.

The speeding car, a dark sedan, had smashed into the side of a small silver SUV. The force of the collision had pushed both vehicles several feet from the intersection, leaving deep gouges in the asphalt. The sedan’s front end was crumpled, its headlights shattered and flickering, while the SUV had tipped onto its side, resting precariously against a streetlight.

Steam and smoke billowed from the mangled hoods of both cars, mingling with the acrid smell of burning rubber and spilled gasoline. The air was filled with the eerie wail of car alarms.

Without thinking, Anitta pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out of her car, rushing over to the scene of the accident. Her footsteps echoed against the pavement as she approached, her mind racing with the urgency of the situation.

"Are you okay?" she called out as she approached the first car. The driver, an older man, groaned in response, struggling to unbuckle his seatbelt. Blood trickled down his forehead from a cut above his eyebrow, and his movements were sluggish, likely from shock or a possible concussion.

"I'm a nurse," Anitta said, trying to keep her voice calm and reassuring. "Just stay still, help is on the way." She pulled out her phone and dialed 911, giving the dispatcher the details of the accident and their location.

Moving to the second car, she found an older woman gripping the steering wheel, her face pale and eyes wide with fear. The SUV was leaning dangerously, and Anitta knew she had to be careful.

"Ma'am, can you hear me?" Anitta asked gently, assessing the woman for any visible injuries.

The woman nodded weakly, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes, I... I think so."

"Help is coming," Anitta assured her. "Just try to stay calm and don't move. You're going to be okay."

Quickly examining the scene, Anitta determined that the woman didn't need any immediate help. She rushed back to the older man's vehicle for a closer inspection. As she approached, she noticed the man was wearing a dark blue uniform, a white shirt beneath it, and a tie that had been loosened in the chaos. His shoulder was bleeding heavily, and upon closer inspection, she realized he'd been shot.

Her heart raced as she saw a metal rod piercing his side, initially hidden by his slumped position. The man groaned again, and as he moved slightly, a police badge slipped from his jacket and clattered to the ground.

"Sir, stay still," Anitta said, her voice firm but soothing. "You've been severely wounded. I'm a nurse, I'm here to help."

The man's eyes fluttered open, his face contorting in pain and panic as he focused on her. "Get out of here," he managed to grit out, his voice strained.

Startled, Anitta asked, "Why? You're hurt; you need help."

The man gritted his teeth and moved slightly, revealing a partially open black bag on the passenger seat. Her eyes widened as she saw a digital clock inside, ticking down.

"What's in the bag?" Anitta asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her attempt to stay calm.

"Just go!" the man insisted, his panic escalating.

Anitta's mind raced as she glanced at the clock. Ten seconds left. Her breath caught in her throat. She didn't have anywhere to run or hide, and the reality of the situation hit her like a tidal wave. She was trapped.

The older man did his best to tell her to get away. "Please... get away from here," he whispered, his strength fading but his urgency clear.

Anitta looked over at the SUV where the older woman was still strapped in, unconscious or too dazed to move. She knew it was too late for any of them. Panic surged through her veins, and a million questions flooded her mind. Why the hell didn’t he turn on his sirens? Why was he driving down this road?

She felt a bitter twist in her gut. None of it made sense, and yet here they were. The ticking of the clock grew louder, each second a hammer strike against her sanity.

Five seconds.

She glanced back at the man, his eyes glazed with a mixture of pain and regret. "I'm sorry," he managed to say, his voice barely audible.

Four seconds.

Anitta's heart pounded in her chest, a wild, uncontrollable rhythm. She wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but stand there helplessly.

Three seconds.

She closed her eyes, a single tear escaping down her cheek. She thought of Peter, of Mr. Scott, of her mother. She thought of the life she still wanted to live.

Two seconds.

She opened her eyes, meeting the man's gaze one last time. There was a strange calmness in his eyes now, a resigned acceptance.

One second.

The world seemed to slow down as the clock hit zero. The last thing she heard was the man's final, whispered plea: "Forgive me."