2 septembre 2026

When Emily saw the little girl running toward the cars

Mute

Tires screeched.

Metal groaned.

Someone screamed.

Emily felt a sharp pain shoot through her shoulder as her body hit the curb. She wrapped herself tighter around the little girl, squeezing her eyes shut.

The truck missed them by inches.

When everything finally went quiet, all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing — fast, shaky, alive.

“Mommy!” the little girl cried, even though her mother wasn’t there.

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