At that moment Ethan's heart skipped a beat as he took in the scene of the crash. The mangled car was half embedded into the building, smoke curling ominously from the hood.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the wreckage, his pulse pounding in his ears.
"Annabelle!"
he called out, his voice tight with urgency.
Without wasting any more time he reached the passenger side first, wrenching the door open. Annabelle was unconscious, her head slumped against the seatbelt. Carefully, he unbuckled her and pulled her out, cradling her limp form in his arms.
Without wasting anymore Ethan moved quickly to the driver's side, yanking the door open. The man inside was slumped over the wheel, blood trickling from his temple. Ethan checked for a pulse, but the cold stillness of the man's body confirmed what he feared—he was already gone.
