The roar of the SUV’s engine filled the night as they tore down the highway, the landscape blurring around them. Inside, Leila held Ethan’s hand tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. His breathing was shallow, each breath labored, and she could feel his life slipping away with every second that passed.
James, who was driving, glanced in the rearview mirror, his jaw set in grim determination. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Hold on.”
Leila looked down at Ethan’s face, pale and glistening with sweat. She could barely recognize him like this—so fragile, so vulnerable. Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She had to stay strong. For him.
“Ethan, stay with me,” she whispered, squeezing his hand tighter. “You’re going to be okay. Just hold on a little
