Chasing Abby(74)

I slam on the brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of me, grumbling as I wait for the car to exit the highway. Then I punch the gas again for two reasons. First, so I can catch up with Abby. And second, so the inertia will make the phone slide backward across the floor of the car toward me.
I keep one eye on the road in front of me as I reach for the phone, but it’s just out of my reach. I take one long look at the road ahead of me and it’s clear, so I take a chance. Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, I throw myself across the seat and grab the phone.
“Abby!”
When I sit up, the ’Cuda is drifting to the left, right into an eighteen-wheeler truck. I swerve to the right, but I overcorrect and my 65-year-old car shreds through the guard railing as if it were Swiss cheese. The front wheel goes over the edge of the overpass and my first instinct is to slam on the brakes. But the moment I do this, the tail of the ’Cuda flies upward as the nose goes over the edge. All I can think as I’m thrown from the car into the deep ravine is that I failed.

Chapter 31 - Abby & Claire

I SWERVE to bring my car back into the right lane, but the damage is done. My heart is pounding so hard and fast I can’t breathe. A sharp pain slices through my left shoulder and I double over the steering wheel. I press my foot down on the brake, but my right arm doesn’t respond when I try to reach for the gearshift. I throw my left arm across my body and push the gearshift into park. The cacophony of horns blaring around me is barely audible as I slump over the center console and black out.



I KNOW CHRIS IS driving as fast as he can, well over the speed limit, without putting us in danger. But I just want to tell him to hurry up. The sound of Jimi’s sobs coming from the backseat are only making this worse.
“I’m sorry,” she declares through her tears. “I’m sorry I gave her the keys.”
I reach back and squeeze her knee. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is.” She pushes my hand away and pulls her feet up onto the seat to hug her knees. “I shouldn’t even go. I don’t deserve to be there.”
“Don’t say that,” Ryder says, his voice gruff from crying. He presses his fist into his forehead, as he shakes his head. “Nothing is wrong with Abby. Tell her, Mom. Tell her Abby’s fine.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I turn to Junior, but he’s just staring out the car window. He never makes a sound and his eyes never blink. We tried calling Caleb, but he never answered. Then, shortly after Brian received the call that Abby was at New Hanover Regional Medical Center, Lynette received another call as we were loading into our separate vehicles to head to the hospital. Caleb was also in the hospital. They wouldn’t give us Caleb’s status over the phone, but they told us that Abby was in surgery after suffering a heart attack and a stroke.
They actually told us she was lucky that she was able to stop the car and get into park before she passed out. I want to believe she’s lucky, but it’s hard to see it that way when she’s currently undergoing a surgery that can either save her or kill her. And if she wakes up, I have no idea if she’ll have Caleb there to comfort her.
“Abby’s going to be fine, baby,” I assure Ryder. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
I turn forward so the kids can’t see how much I don’t believe the words I just spoke. I can’t even bring myself to look at Chris. I don’t want to know how this is surely tearing him apart.
Chris drops me off near the emergency-room entrance, then he sets off with the kids to find a parking space. I race inside and dart toward the reception area. I don’t think the Jensens are here yet.
“Excuse me, miss. I’m here for Abigail Jensen.”