The call came at 6:17 p.m. I remember the exact time because I had just sat down with a cup of tea when the phone rang. The voice on the other end was calm but urgent: “Are you Emma Collins’ mother?” My heart lurched. “Yes.” “There’s been a car crash. Your daughter was hit leaving work. I pulled her from the vehicle and brought her to the ER. You need to come now.” The cup slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor. I didn’t even look down. I grabbed my keys and drove, barely noticing the traffic lights…
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