“Zara?” I shouted, bolting toward the driveway. My iced tea crashed to the ground behind me.
Serena’s black BMW was parked crookedly, its front bumper dented. And lying beside it—my little girl, motionless on the pavement.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Serena shouted, slamming her door shut. “Keep your brat out of my way! Look what she did to my car!”
I froze, unable to process the words. “You… you hit her,” I whispered.
Serena rolled her eyes. “She ran in front of me! My car’s ruined!” Then she did something I’ll never forget—she grabbed Zara by the arm and started dragging her away from the car.
“Don’t touch her!” I screamed, dropping to my knees beside my daughter. Zara’s head lolled to the side, a dark bruise forming near her temple. “She’s hurt, Serena! Stop!”
My parents rushed out—but not toward us. “Honey, are you okay?” my dad asked, wrapping his arm around Serena. My mother’s eyes flicked to Zara, then back to me. “Look what your daughter did,” she said coldly. “Please, go away.”
I stared at her, stunned. “She’s bleeding. She’s not moving!”
