CHAPTER 7
Down, down, down the snow-covered hill the van flew. I was sure I would die. An internal brain screen flashed images of my younger self on the Jersey shore with my mother. Then I was holding Arch as a newborn. Pain shot across my back. Warm liquid ran up my arm. I saw Tom slipping the wedding ring on my finger. I thought, But what will he have for dinner?
The van slammed into something hard, jolting me forward. A wave of shadowy whiteness obscured the windshield. The van again bounced onto something hard—a boulder?—and shuddered. My vehicle flipped over, then flipped back. I was screaming. Then, with a terrifying boom, the van hit another rock. The windshield shattered. A shock wave of icy snow hit me in the face.
Suddenly, everything went still. I had the confused thought: Ar
