There’s always a moment of shock. It takes the human brain that moment to process both what has happened, and accept that it’s real.

Her father’s words echoed in her head, and for the first time she truly understood. Because for a long moment she hadn’t moved, in fact had stayed still, waiting to wake up from the crazy dream. Her mind had been in such an uproar since she’d seen Adam at the cemetery she wasn’t even surprised it had churned up this nightmare that she had crashed her dad’s car. She was, inanely, a little surprised she hadn’t dreamed up his truck as the car that had unexpectedly sideswiped her, driving her into the ditch.

It was the pungent smell of gasoline that snapped her out of it. This was real. It was real, she was hanging sideways in the driver’s seat, held only by the seat belt. And the smell of gas made her instantly think about fire. She had to get out of here. She’d deal with what she’d done to the car after that. She tried to open the door, but it was jammed, and tight. She needed more leverage, maybe from a different position.

Her first two tries for the seat belt release were futile. The angle she was now at, she simply couldn’t reach. She felt the drip of rain on her face, wondered what window had broken. She reached for her keys and pulled them out of the ignition. In an instant she had it, the gift her father had given her when she’d first gotten her driver’s license. No useless frippery from Greg Bonner, no, this had been, he’d said, an essential for living here in this land of bridges and water. And so she took the device on her key ring and used it. The slanted blade nestled in the U-bend of the small piece of plastic slashed easily through the seat belt, freeing her.

The other end held a small, spring-loaded bolt that would shatter the window if she held it in the right place.

She didn’t want to have to do that, but...

Windows are replaceable, Mandy. You’re not.

She maneuvered around to where she could brace against the passenger seat and push at the door with her feet. She still couldn’t budge it. At all. Fear started to build in her as the smell of gas grew stronger. One spark, one too hot piece of metal...

Even as she thought it she heard the whoosh as the gasoline caught, flared into fire. Panic spiked through her. She had to get out, and she had to do it now. She chanted what her father had told her, put the bolt against a corner of the window and release it. She would—