Chapter 1 - Liam & Reagans Story
By the time I leave the hospital, I'm exhausted.
Not normally tired.
The kind of tired that settles into your bones and refuses to leave.
Twelve-hour emergency shifts will do that.
I pull my rain jacket tighter as I jog through the hospital car park, keys already in hand.
The sky has been threatening rain all afternoon.
Now it's finally delivering.
The first drops hit my windshield just as I start the car.
Perfect timing.
I pull out of the staff parking lot and head toward home.
The heater blasts warm air against my freezing hands.
The radio hums quietly.
For the first time all day, I'm alone.
No patients.
No doctors.
No families demanding answers.
Just me.
Exactly how I like it.
The rain gets heavier as I drive.
Streetlights blur through the water streaking across my windshield.
The roads are mostly empty.
Most sane people are already home.
I glance at the clock.
Nearly nine.
By the time I get home, it'll be close to ten.
Long day.
Long week.
Long life.
I huff a quiet laugh at myself.
Dramatic.
The windshield wipers work overtime as I drive through the storm.
My little hatchback rattles over a pothole.
I pat the dashboard.
"Don't embarrass me tonight."
The car immediately makes a strange noise.
I freeze.
No.
No, no, no.
The engine coughs once.
Then again.
The dashboard lights flicker.
My stomach drops.
"You've got to be kidding me."
The car lurches.
The accelerator suddenly feels wrong beneath my foot.
I press harder.
Nothing.
The engine loses power.
Fast.
"Come on."
Another cough.
Another shudder.
The speedometer starts dropping.
Rain hammers against the roof.
Cars rush past in the opposite direction.
And my engine is actively dying.
"Not tonight."
The dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree.
Every warning light imaginable.
I grip the steering wheel tighter.
The car loses more speed.
Thirty kilometres.
Twenty.
Ten.
I manage to steer toward the shoulder as the engine gives one final pathetic sputter.
Then dies.
Complete silence.
The rain suddenly sounds twice as loud.
I stare through the windshield.
The wipers continue moving.
Everything else is dead.
I let my forehead fall against the steering wheel.
Of course.
Because apparently the universe looked at my twelve-hour shift and decided I wasn't quite miserable enough.
Thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance.
I sit there for a moment.
Just breathing.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Mechanics.
Tow trucks.
Costs.
The fact that I haven't eaten since lunchtime.
The fact that it's pouring rain.
Eventually, I sit back and pull out my phone.
No missed calls.
No messages.
No one is expecting me.
No one is waiting for me.
Just me.
Like always.
I could call roadside assistance.
I should call roadside assistance.
Instead, I shove my phone back into my bag.
Because maybe it's something simple.
Maybe I can figure it out myself.
I climb out of the car into the storm.
Rain instantly soaks through my jeans.
The wind nearly rips my umbrella from my hands.
Fantastic.
I pop the bonnet and stare into the engine bay.
I have absolutely no idea what I'm looking at.
But that's beside the point.
The point is trying.
The point is handling my own problems.
The point is not needing anyone.
Another car rushes past, spraying water across the side of the road.
I barely notice.
Standing in the pouring rain, on the side of a nearly empty road, after the longest shift imaginable, I stare at my broken-down car and sigh.
This night officially sucks.
And somehow I have a feeling it's about to get a lot more interesting.