The sound came back first, but not smoothly. It was broken and rough. A car horn groaned somewhere far away, a sad sound that faded into the cloudy day. Rain hit the hot, messed-up metal, sounding like tiny needles on a frying pan. Someone yelled her name, their voice stretched thin with worry that shook in the wet air.
“Miss! Can you hear me? Miss!”
Min-Hee blinked. Everything was a blur of bright light and heavy pressure. Every nerve in her body screamed at once as the shock wore off. Her chest felt like an elephant was standing on it. Her shoulder was a burning pain, and her head felt heavy.
She was alive.
The thought hit her harder than the truck had. The air she breathed in tasted like ozone, gas, and wet street, but it was air.
“She’s breathing!” someone called out, closer now.
