Rowan, just come home.
It was the last text she’d received from her mother. Three weeks ago. And now, here, stopped at this interminably long red light, she decided to respond.
Glancing up to check the light, her gut clenched, waiting for the three dots signaling an incoming reply.
. . .
A honk startled her. She took her foot off the brake, pressed the gas, and lurched forward.
She never even saw the bus coming.
We can’t wait to see you.
Metal crunched as two vehicles merged into one. Within minutes, sirens screamed in the distance.
Forgiveness was Rowan’s last thought.