She’d found freedom, and the only way to enjoy it for what it’s worth, was to pay a high enough price where guilt couldn’t take over all else. The longer she sat in her car, guilt replaced her anger and dread, but she knew she could afford just about anything at this point. Eventually she would buy her guilt back, if needed. She’d altered fate. Nevertheless, stuck in the middle of the road, the corner of her car ripped completely off, glass and metal scattered all over the pavement, how was she ever going to get past the enormous debt of an emotional psyche, if the rescue squad was using a crowbar to get her out of her mangled vehicle? Sara closed her eyes, clenched her hands to the steering wheel, and let life swallow her whole; allowed that blade of life to slice through her body—deep and deadly the cuts. “We need to get you into the ambulance Miss,” one of the more than adorable rescue men looking in on her said. “Can you hear me?” She stared at the man. She heard him well enough, didn’t want anyone’s help, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to get into an ambulance without probable cause.
