_Zarelle’s POV_
“I thought I was over him,” I said to my own reflection in the rearview mirror.
*You should be over him,* Mirelle said quietly. *He never deserved you.*
“Then why does it still hurt to know he loves someone else?”
The question hung in the air like an accusation. I blew out a breath and reached for the dashboard control to turn on the radio.
I needed music, voices, anything to distract me and get out of my own head.
*Something’s wrong,* Mirelle suddenly growled in my head. *Danger—*
The tipper truck came out of nowhere.
By the time I registered its presence, it was too late.
The reinforced front bumper of the truck rammed straight into the bonnet of the Rolls-Royce with devastating force.
The luxury sedan crumpled like paper against the massiv
