Rescuers, arriving at the scene, were greeted by the mangled door.

When they pried it open, their faces registered sheer astonishment.

Conventional wisdom held that in a crash, a driver’s instinct might swerve the vehicle.

Contrary to that, the driver in front of them had done the opposite and taken the impact head-on.

Leonel’s thighs were drenched in blood, the crimson stark against the grey fabric of his suit, a grisly sight.

His legs, trapped and immobile, continued to bleed.

Propped against the seat, Leonel’s voice was faint.

“My wife, my daughter-where are they?”

Recognized immediately by the rescue team as the well-known Leonel Douglas from Duefron, they hastened to his aid.

“They’re safe,” they assured him.

has a minor bruise; she’s

daughter

Don’t worry, Mr. Douglas.

brow as he processed

learning Alexis was out of the wreckage

surrendered to exhaustion, and

him, a pain beyond what most could withstand, and it

of a rescuer was Cordelia, his

soft murmur escaped her Lips-a

“Da—”

Cordelia’s voice in his ears, Leonel’s thoughts grew

eyes closed, and behind the darkness, he imagined the

stretched out on the

blazed across the sky, their silence a shared

you think of the name Cordelia? I think it’s beautiful, and I’d like

Leonel towered almost six

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