GINEVRA
I had bolted out the door the moment I heard the whispered words that were shared between my siblings.
They had confessed to tampering with someone’s car.
That someone had been Julia.
When I zoomed off in my car, my fingers had begun moving against my phone’s screen frantically. I had been dialing Julia nonstop. To no avail.
With a groan of frustration, I threw my phone to the passenger seat, seemingly giving up dialing the number. In a split second, my foot was pressed firmly against the accelerator.
I drove like a crazed woman.
Long minutes passed and my phone buzzed. It was Julia.
“Aunty, you have to get out of that car!” I panicked. “It’s. . .it’s. . .”
My cry had been foolish. I could hear it, the chaos.
Tires screeching, her driver’s grunts, Julia’s strained breaths—it had begun.
I had been too late.