Page 131 of Mended Fences

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The car was upside down, wheels still spinning. Smoke hissed from the hood. One door was crumpled in. The frame bent.

And no sound.

No crying.

No baby.

“Luci?” My voice cracked, useless.

I stumbled closer, slipping down the embankment, barely upright. Blood dripped down my arm, warm and constant.

“Lucía!”

Nothing.

I clawed at the back door, trying to rip it open with one hand. My shoulder shrieked in protest.

Then—a sound.

A high-pitched wail.

I froze. Chest heaving.Alive. She’s alive.

I threw myself at the door again, finally wrenching it open.

And there she was.

Still screaming. Still flailing.

Stillstrapped into a car seat.

I stared.

For one disbelieving, horrified second, I juststared.

He’d put a car seat in his car.

He’dplannedthis.

He wasn’t running. He wasn’t improvising. He was prepared—like he’d convinced himself this was right. Like he’d convinced himself she washis.

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.

I reached in, fumbled with the harness. My fingers barely worked. Blood slicked everything. But I got her out. Pulled her into my arms.

She was warm. Alive. Crying into my neck.

“Got you,” I whispered. “I’ve got you, baby. Daddy’s here.”

My knees gave out.

I crumpled to the ground in the grass, curling around her like I could shield her from everything—my body a broken wall, but still standing.

“I’ve got you,” I kept saying. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

She wailed louder.

I didn’t feel myself fall back. Didn’t register the black creeping in at the corners.

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