Ziana’s heart races in her chest, her grip tightening on the steering wheel as she barrels down the road, her mind solely focused on one thing—getting Mickey to the base, where he can get the treatment he desperately needs. The world around her blurs as she pushes the car to its limits, the tires screeching as she takes each curve with precision.
Mickey’s labored breathing fills the car, each rasp making her chest tighten with worry. His body slumps in the seat, barely holding on.
"Just hang in there," Ziana mutters, trying to keep herself steady. She swears she can hear his heartbeat slowing down, and it sends a cold wave of dread through her.
"Almost there," she tells herself, eyes scanning the road ahead, barely keeping her focus on the bumps and turns. There’s nothing else that
