'Sigh… another old man gone. First Sera Grandfather and now Henry Wade Father.'
Alex let out a slow, helpless breath. Not that it was his fault—Eric Vaughn, that lucky bastard, always seemed to pick old people to save. So, really, everything was Eric's fault.
The onlookers, realizing there was nothing left to see, gradually lost interest. One by one, they dispersed, returning to their own lives as if none of this had ever happened.
"It's getting late. Let's go back" Sera said softly. She had been standing outside for too long, and the dull ache in her legs was starting to return.
Without a word, Alex started the car and pulled away from Road, heading toward their location.
As the evening deepened, a sleek red sports car streaked across the elevated bridge, effortlessly gliding at 70 miles per hour.
