My fingers were a vice on the steering wheel, knuckles bone-white, every pothole sending a fresh jolt up my spine as the old car thundered through the streets of Angel Bay. I pushed it harder, barely seeing anything beyond the white stripes zipping by under the headlights. In the back seat, Lisa cradled Henry, our three-year-old, her face a mask of fury and terror.

“Unbelievable, Max!” Her voice was sharp enough to draw blood. “How could you be this careless? How did he even get to your gun? Do you even understand how close—” Her voice cracked, raw fear cutting through her anger as she pulled Henry in tighter.

“I know, Lisa! You think I don’t know that?” The words shot out, reflexive, harsh. The sting of regret hit immediately, cold and biting, twisting somewhere deep.

Behind me, Henry’s broken sobs were barely whispers now. My son—my kid, whose tiny hand was wrapped in a soaked towel, blood leaking through the fabric and onto Lisa’s shaking fingers. Memories flickered through, of his small hands holding mine for balance, of how he’d hide behind me if a stranger got too close. And now, here we were. Because of me. My pulse thundered in time with his shallow breaths.

“You think I don’t feel like the worst kind of idiot?” I snapped back, voice grating. “It was locked up, Lisa. He wasn’t supposed to find it.”

“Locked up?” Her words were a scream now, raw and ragged. “If it was locked up, he wouldn’t be bleeding out in my lap right now!” She was shaking, her face streaked with tears, pale and furious. “You’re always checked out, Max—always. High, or distracted, or whatever else. So tell me, what was it tonight? Weed, right? While our son nearly died?”

“I needed to calm down,” I shouted, chest tight with a suffocating mix of guilt and defensiveness. “You’ve been on my case nonstop, and I needed a damn break!”

Lisa’s voice cracked, anger dissolving into a despair I’d never heard from her before. “And that’s your excuse? That’s the line? ‘Needed to calm down’? Henry nearly died while you—” She broke down, her grip on the towel slipping as it darkened with fresh blood, her fingers smeared and shaking.

The blood was seeping through the towel, dark and spreading, like it was sinking straight into my own veins, chilling me from the inside out. Each tiny heartbeat slipping away felt like sand through clenched fists, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” I whispered, voice barely there. “I didn’t—”

Lisa’s reply was a slap to the face. “I don’t care, Max! I don’t give a damn what you meant—Henry’s hurt!” Her voice was like glass cutting through the air, her words slashing. “You’re the reason we’re in this mess. Borrowing from those guys, screwing up every chance we had, and now this? It’s all on you!”

I barely felt the wheel twist beneath my hands, but the car lurched, skidding sideways. Tires screamed against the asphalt, jerking me back to the present. My pulse pounded in my throat as I gripped tighter, fighting to keep control.

“And you?” My voice came out low, venomous. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? You think I don’t know about him?”

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Lisa’s head whipped toward me, eyes wide, mouth twisting in shock. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m not blind, Lisa!” I spat, anger surging up like a wave. “You think I don’t notice you sneaking around? All those late nights, the lame excuses? I know you’ve been seeing Jack—the guy’s practically a walking cliché in his cheap suits.”

“You’re out of your mind,” she hissed, face flushed with rage, but her hands still trembling as she held Henry closer. “Henry’s bleeding out, Max, and you’re focused on this?”

I opened my mouth, words ready to fly, but then everything turned red and blue. Flashing lights filled the road ahead—a police car blocking our path, sirens wailing.

“Shit!” I slammed the brakes, too late. The tires shrieked as the world tilted, the car careening sideways before colliding with a sickening crunch into the cruiser. The impact threw me forward, the airbag exploding against my face in a blinding cloud of dust and force. Shattered glass rained down as the metal crumpled in, the shockwave twisting through my body in a sharp ache.

Silence fell, thick and surreal. Somewhere, I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, deafening in the stillness.

I jolted awake, head pounding like a drum. For a second, everything was foggy—the whole world cast in twisted shadows by the crash headlights spilling across the street. My hands clenched the wheel, knuckles white, as if letting go might send me spiraling into the abyss.

Then it hit me.

“Henry… Lisa…” My voice was barely a whisper, raw and cracked. Panic clawed up my throat as I struggled against the seatbelt, the deflating airbag sagging onto my lap like a final insult. Heart thundering, I glanced over to the passenger seat.

Empty.

A chill crept up my spine. The seat was cold, untouched, not a drop of blood or a trace of the towel Lisa had held Henry in. No sign that they’d even been there.

“Lisa? Henry?” My voice came out strangled as I twisted around to check the back seat. Nothing. Just the same eerie emptiness, taunting me with the impossible. They were gone. Vanished. Like they’d never been there at all.

My thoughts fractured, tumbling through a haze of disbelief and dread, every angle of the car blurring like some sick mirage. Then a loud bang on the window snapped me back. I jerked around, squinting into the blinding glare of a flashlight.

“Step out of the car!” The cop’s voice was muffled, hard, his fist pounding the glass again. “Get out of the car! Now!”

My fingers fumbled over the door handle as I stumbled out, dazed. My legs barely held me up, but somehow, I was fine. Not a scratch. I glanced down, expecting blood, torn clothes, something to account for the crash. But nothing—just me, standing in front of a crumpled, ruined car.

The officer’s hand gripped my arm, his face twisted in anger and suspicion. “Are you drunk? High? What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“No,” I stammered, shaking my head. “My son—he’s hurt. He… he shot himself. I was taking him to the hospital. My wife was holding him, she was right here. Please, you have to help me.”

The flashlight cut through the dark as the cop’s face shifted, a hint of disbelief settling into his expression. He leaned closer to the car, scanning the empty seats with a look of confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He squinted, his voice thick with skepticism. “There’s no one here.”

The ground fell away beneath me. My stomach dropped, cold fingers clawing through my insides. “What do you mean?” I yanked my arm free, stumbling back to the car and pulling open the back door. “They were here—I swear, they were right here!”

The cop’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “Sir, calm down. There’s no one in there. Nothing but you.”

“No, they were here!” I thrashed, my voice cracking as I tried to shove him off. “You have to believe me!”

His face was a stone mask of patience stretched thin. “You been drinking? Smoking something?”

“I'm not high!” I shouted, desperation bleeding into my voice. “I was trying to save my son—please, you have to understand.”

The cop let out a sigh, his gaze hardening. “I don’t know what you’re on, but we’ll get you sorted out at the station.” Before I could react, he spun me around, snapping cold metal cuffs around my wrists.