“Val,” Paxton coughed, “Valerie,” he repeated.
“I’m here, Paxton,” she said gently as she reached out and grasped his hand, “You scared me, Paxton.”
“How long have I been out?” he whispered.
“Four days, Paxton, four days,” she cried, “I was so worried. I saw you go down, and there was nothing I could do. I felt helpless, just like I felt for Penelope. I pulled her from the car, I did everything I could for her, and she still died.”
Paxton reached over and laid his other hand on top of hers, “I know you did everything you could for her. It was not your fault. You were not driving that car. It is not your fault now, either. You are not the one who fired the gun. The only difference between her and me is that it was her time and it wasn’t mine,” he tried to reassure her, “I understand yo
