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He crashes against a concrete wall that separates the paddock area from the rest of the circuit where the public is allowed.

His bike falls flat on the ground, still spinning out of control, like a toy discarded by a capricious toddler.

“Fuck!” I yell.

The other racers are all slowing down as the race stewards signal to the director that he needs to stop the race.

Smith is nowhere to be seen. His old Aprilia is abandoned in the middle of the racetrack.

The Beamer rider who caused all this chaos has vanished into thin air.

A rescue crew rushes toward the still form of my brother.

Someone is screaming when it becomes clear by the paramedics’ body language that they can’t do anything to help Atlas.

I don’t even realize that the blood-curdling screams are coming from me until Lev and Chance run to my side.

My little brother wraps me in a crushing hug. “Ares,” he sobs. “He’s gone. Atlas is gone.”

From that moment, I feel numb. I vaguely know that people are talking to me.

I can’t see or hear anything, not really.

Half of me has just been ripped out and the only thing I notice is Fox’s Beamer riding over the finish line of a race that was canceled in the exact moment my world ended.

Part Two

Chapter 7

Moving Day

ZARA

Two years later, Shell Cove, California

“Thank you, I got it.” I smile nervously, taking my suitcase from the taxi driver.

I drag my luggage up the driveway of Mom’s little two-bedroom house. It looks like nothing has changed in the two years I’ve been away. The small front lawn is still meticulously maintained and the yellow front door is as bright and inviting as I remember it.

My hand trembles and I miss the lock, almost dropping the key. Jeez, I need to take a deep breath and pull myself together.

“It’s just Mom. It’ll be fine.” I whisper to myself.

The truth is that I’m nervous about seeing my mom again.

Resentment expands in my chest and I lower my hand, needing a minute before I step back into my old life.

I know I’m being a little unfair. Boarding school wasn’t all that bad, and I’ve had time to think about the events that caused Mom to make that decision.

Rehashing that old story is pointless now and I’m actually a little excited and hopeful to reconnect with her.

“What the?—”

I’m greeted by a stack of boxes in the small hallway. They seem to be everywhere, to the point that I can just about open the door enough to let myself into the house.

“Zara?” Mom’s voice comes from the living room and I follow it, leaving my suitcase behind.

“Hey Mom,” I force a smile on my face, confused by a shit ton more boxes all over the living room.

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