Chapter 2 Accident

Chapter 2 HALLE I crawled to it on my hands and knees. I tried to pick up the biggest piece, the one that still had a little medicine in the bottom, but my hands were shaking too much. The glass cut my finger. The last drops spilled out. It was gone. My mother's medicine was gone, and I had no money left to buy more, and there was no more to buy anyway, because the old man said it was the last one. I heard the car stop. I looked up. The black car had stopped a little further down the road. Its brake lights finally came on, red in the rain. For one stupid moment, I thought the driver was coming back to help me. The car reversed slowly until it was beside me. It was a beautiful car, shiny and expensive, the kind of car I had only ever seen in movies or in front of big hotels. The back window rolled down a few inches. I saw a girl inside. She was wearing a black hoodie pulled low over her head and big dark glasses, even though it was the middle of the night. Her lips were painted a soft pink. She did not look at me. She looked straight ahead, at nothing. A hand came out of the window. A thin hand with long, neat nails. It was holding a roll of money held together with a rubber band. A thick roll. More money than I had seen in months. The girl threw it. It hit the ground next to my knee and landed in the puddle. "For your trouble," she said. Her voice was cool and bored, like she was tipping a waiter. Then the window started to roll back up. The car began to move. I stared at the money in the water. Something inside me broke. It wasn't sadness this time. It was something hot and sharp, something I had been swallowing for weeks. I grabbed the wet money and got up. My knee screamed in pain, but I didn't stop. I ran after the car. It was still moving slowly, and I caught up with it and slammed my open hand against the back window. "Stop!" I shouted. "Stop the car!" The car stopped. I banged on the glass again. "Open the window!" Slowly, the window came down. The girl finally turned her head toward me. I could not see her eyes behind the dark glasses, but I could feel her looking at me like I was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe. I threw the money back into the car. It hit her lap and fell to the floor. "I don't want your money," I said. My voice was shaking, but I kept going. "You almost killed me. You were driving with no lights. Do you know what you just did? That was my mother's medicine on that road. That was her medicine!" For a second, something moved on her face. It was so quick I almost missed it. Then it was gone, and her pink lips curled into a cold little smile. "Then buy another one," she said. "There isn't another one!" "Then that's not my problem." She tilted her head. "Isn't that what you people do? Beg twice? Go on, I just gave you enough to beg with." I couldn't breathe. "You people?" "Move away from my car." I don't know what came over me. My hand moved before my brain did. I slapped the glass of the open window, hard, so hard that my palm stung. The girl flinched back. "You're a monster," I said. "You're a rich, spoiled monster, and I hope one day you lose everything. I hope one day you know what it feels like." She turned her face away from me. Her hood slipped, falling back off her head. Long dark hair spilled out over her shoulders. At that exact second, a white light exploded beside us. I turned, blinking. Two cars had stopped behind the black car. Men were getting out with cameras. One flash. Then another. Then another. "There she is!" one of the men shouted. "Miss Laurent! Miss Laurent, look this way! Do you have anything to say about your father?" I didn't know that name. I didn't know what they were talking about. I just stood there in the rain, blinded, with my wet hair stuck to my face and blood dripping from my finger. Inside the car, the girl swore under her breath. She yanked her hood back up and shouted something at the driver. The window shot up. The car's engine roared. It took off so fast that the back wheel threw dirty water all over my legs. The men with the cameras ran back to their cars and raced after it. In ten seconds, they were all gone. The road was empty again. Just me and the rain and three pieces of broken glass. I don't remember walking back across the road. I just remember standing in the hospital entrance, shaking, while the security guard stared at me. "Madam, you're bleeding," he said. I looked down. My knee was cut open through my jeans. My finger was still bleeding from the glass. I had not even noticed. "I'm fine," I said. I was not fine. I went up in the elevator. I walked down the long bright hallway, leaving muddy footprints behind me. When Bisi saw me, she put both hands over her mouth. "Halle! What happened to you?" "A car," I said. "Almost hit me. The medicine broke. It was the last one. He said it was the last one." My voice was flat, like it belonged to someone else. Bisi pulled me into the small staff room and sat me down. She cleaned my knee and my finger and put plasters on them while I stared at the wall. She kept talking, soft and kind, but I couldn't hear most of it. "I'll call other pharmacies," she said. "Maybe someone has it. We'll find a way." "I have no money," I said. "I gave him everything. Everything." Bisi stopped. She looked at me with so much pity that I wanted to scream. "There's something else," she said slowly. "The billing manager came by while you were gone. He wanted to make sure you understood. Eight o'clock. If the payment is not made-" "I understand," I said. She squeezed my hand and went back to work. Someone was calling for her. I walked out into the hallway and sat down on the floor outside my mother's room, my back against the wall. I didn't have the strength to go inside. I didn't want her to see me like this, even if she couldn't open her eyes. Then I started crying. It wasn't pretty crying. It was the ugly kind, with my whole body shaking and my hands over my face and sounds coming out of me that I didn't know I could make. I cried for my mother. I cried for her sewing machine. I cried for the medicine washing into the drain. I cried because a girl in a car had thrown money at me like I was a dog and had told me to beg. The worst part was that I had wanted to take it. For one second, kneeling in that puddle, I had wanted that money so much it hurt. That was what made me throw it back. I don't know how long I sat there. Maybe ten minutes. Maybe an hour. Then I heard footsteps. Slow, heavy steps. They stopped right in front of me. I saw a pair of shiny black shoes. Above them were the neat legs of a dark gray suit. "Miss Halle Adams?" I wiped my face with my sleeve and looked up. A tall man stood over me. He was maybe forty, with short gray hair and a face that showed nothing. He was not wet at all, even though the rain was still pouring outside. "Who are you?" I asked.