Blood seeps down the girl’s face, one hand clutches her bulging stomach, sharp pains vibrate through her spine and to the baby within her womb. Her eyes roll as someone reaches in, grabbing her beneath the armpits.

That’s when the small car explodes in a mess of heated metal and busted glass after a small spark hit the exposed gasoline.

They fall backwards under the blast, the girl groans, reaching for her baby. Someone dials 911. And fast as the girl’s blood paints the pavement.

“What’s your name?” She hears someone say. Their voice rings in and out, she tries to blink away the hurt.

“Jasmine,” she tries to say to the truck driver. “My name is Jasmine.”

.•.•.•.•.•.•

She wakes to the unfamiliar “beep, beep, beep” of a heart monitoring machine. Jasmine’s sister gasps when her eyes open. She’s confused, everything hurts.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” her sister comforts while tears pool into her eyes. “I promise it’s all okay.”

Jasmine jerks. “Where’s the— where’s my baby?”

“You were in a crash,” her sister says slowly. “You were hurt bad. No one thought you would make it… then they realized you had a baby and—“

“Where’s my—“ Jasmine begins to ask again, cutting her sister off, when a nurse in scrubs walks in with a pink blanketed baby.

“I believe this beauty belongs to you,” the nurse says, handing the child over gently. “She’s a healthy girl, completely well.”

Jasmine begins to cry, smiling at her baby, wrapped cozily in her shaking arms. Scratches and bruises are scattered over Jasmine’s flesh. She winces and the nurse takes the newborn away.

Once they’re gone and Jasmine is done crying happy tears, she asks her sister what happened again. Her sister explains and Jasmine cries. This time it’s sad tears that spill.

“Four kids and one adult,” her sister murmurs. “They passed. The truck driver pulled you out and away. Your phone too. Just in time.” Her sister pulls Jasmine’s phone out of her purse and lays it on the bedside table. “I’m sorry, Jasmine. What happened? Why did you…” she trails.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just so...”

“It’s all going to be okay, promise,” her sister wraps her in a warm hug, breathing in her earthy scent.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

She wakes to ringing. Unsure if it’s her ears or an alarm she’s set for work, she sit up. Pain shoots up her spine and limbs, and she remembers where she is.

The hospital.

She gasps, reaching for the phone her sister left. It’s lit up and vibrating, she squints. Shaking, she looks at the caller ID.

567-408-7420, United Kingdom

CALLING •••

( Answer ) ( Decline )

Her heart goes crazy.