Still Unconscious

Jeffrey drove like a man possessed, his knuckles white against the steering wheel, his foot pressing recklessly on the gas. Nothing else mattered. Not the honking cars, not the speed limits, not even the flashing red lights he ignored.

Because she was still bleeding.

His heart slammed against his ribs as he glanced sideways. Joanne—his Joanne—strapped in the passenger seat, her head slumped against the headrest, her face as pale as death.

"Jo…" His voice cracked, hoarse from calling her name over and over again. "Jo, please…"

But she didn't stir.

His stomach twisted in knots.

Few more agonizing minutes, he heard it. Sirens.

The ambulance had finally arrived, but the relief that should have come with it never did.