Asher and the paramedic continued CPR. The man didn’t seem to be responding. The woman let out a blood-curdling shriek and tried to grab the other paramedic and pull him aside so she could get to her husband. The paramedic pushed her away, but she threw herself over the man. Before I knew what I was doing, I was out of the car and running to her side. I grabbed her arm and gently pulled her back.

“You need to let them work,” I said when she swung to face me with wild eyes. All I could think was that this woman might be about to lose a family member or friend if she didn’t let the paramedics do their thing. I couldn’t let that happen to someone else the way it had to me.

“Come over here.” I guided her a few feet away and put an arm around her shoulders. She was shivering violently even though the temperature was mild.

The paramedic who wasn’t Asher shot me a grateful look.

“What’s your name?” I asked the distraught woman.

“Jackie.” She was breathing raggedly, unable to take her eyes off her husband. “Why isn’t he moving? They’re doing it wrong.”

“Jackie,” I said, firm enough that she glanced at me. “They’re doing everything they can.”

At that moment, there was a beep and Asher touched the defibrillator to the man’s chest. He jerked, and they resumed CPR. A few seconds later, Asher yelled out. “He’s breathing, and we have a pulse.”

“Oh, thank God.” Jackie collapsed against my chest, crying, as the paramedics shifted her husband onto a stretcher and carried him to the ambulance.

“Come on,” I said, since she seemed unable to move. “You want to go with him, right?”

That jolted her into motion. I helped her over to the ambulance. Asher directed her to the front seat, then climbed into the back himself. The other paramedic rounded the vehicle, telling someone through a radio that a second ambulance was on its way.

I stumbled off the road. Now that nobody needed my help, the full horror of the situation sunk its claws into me again. I surveyed the wrecked vehicles and twisted metal. The driver of the rental car had been dragged onto the side of the road. From the look of him, I suspected he’d died on impact.

A husky guy who might be the truck driver stood talking to Zane. He seemed shaken but unharmed. My gaze dragged back to the body. So lifeless. Mom and Malcolm had once been like that. Had they lain ruined on the side of the road while emergency staff struggled to save the people who caused the crash?

I fell to my knees and vomited.

“Hey, whoa!” A hand landed on my back. “I told you to stay in the engine for a reason, Kenz. Are you okay?”