It was raining like the sky had split open. Sheets of water pounded the windshield, the wipers squealed helplessly against the downpour. Every bend in the road was a smear of darkness.
In the passenger seat, Mei Lin twisted around to hush Ethan, who was whining because he couldn’t see anything through the glass.
“Almost there, baby,” she said. “We’ll see the lights on the mountain soon.”
Liang’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “We should’ve stayed in the city,” he muttered. “This road’s a bloody death trap in the rain.”
But they’d been saving up for this weekend for months. A fancy suite with glass walls to watch the rolling fog, just them and Ethan. It felt too late to turn back.
The crash
It happened in a blink. The car lurched. The tires lost grip.
Weightless for a heartbeat, then spinning.
Trees, darkness, headlights whipping past.
BANG.
The car slammed sideways into a tree. Metal screamed, glass shattered, airbags exploded with a choking burst of powder that sucked the air from Mei Lin’s lungs.
Liang checks them
Mei Lin opened her eyes to the taste of blood and rain in the air, dazed. Ethan was whimpering in the back.
“Sweetheart? Ethan? Mommy’s here.”
Liang was already unclipping his seatbelt, twisting around, hands trembling.
“Mei, you okay? Anything broken?” His voice cracked.
She shook her head numbly. “I don’t think so. Just…hurts. But I can move.”
He reached into the backseat, brushing Ethan’s hair off his forehead, pressing gentle fingers along his arms and chest.
“Hey champ. You okay? Anything hurt bad?”
Ethan sniffled, clutching his stuffed giraffe. “M-my tummy hurts a bit…”
“Okay. Just stay still. Daddy’s gonna figure this out.”
Liang turned to Mei Lin, eyes wide with panic and love. “I’ll check the road. Maybe flag someone down. Stay with him. I’ll be right back.”
She gripped his hand. It was cold, slick with rain. “Please hurry.”
He squeezed back hard. “I promise.”
Oil on the road
Outside, the rain swallowed him. Mei Lin forced her door open, stumbling out. Her legs were wobbly, but she followed Liang’s voice.
“Look at this,” he said, pointing. Under the beam of his phone, a dark river wound across the asphalt. “Oil. Must’ve leaked from a lorry. That’s why we skidded.”
She tried her phone. Dead. Liang tried his. Shook his head. No signal either.
“I’ll walk up the road. Try to get a signal. Or find help. Stay here, Mei. Keep Ethan calm.”
“Okay. Just be careful.”
Liang had checked them both before leaving, a quick squeeze of her hand, a whispered, “I’ll be right back,” before disappearing into the dark with the beam of his phone lighting the road ahead.
When he leaves
She climbed into the backseat with Ethan, humming old lullabies, rocking him gently. Outside, Liang’s figure vanished into the dark, swallowed by rain and mist.
Mei Lin shifted in the seat, wincing at the stiffness in her neck. Her hands felt oddly cold, but she brushed it off. Maybe it was just the mountain air seeping in through the cracked window.
It might have been minutes. Or hours.
Mei Lin tried to keep Ethan talking, tried to keep him awake, but the boy’s answers grew softer, slower.
Finally, through the fog, flashlights flared. A couple of shadows moved towards them. Liang, among them. His steps were uneven, his jacket torn, his face pale with something more than exhaustion.
“Daddy!” Ethan’s voice cracked with relief.
Mei Lin’s heart lifted. “See? Daddy found help. We’re going to be okay.”
She stepped out of the car with Ethan, ready to wave but none of the people with Liang looked at her.
Liang didn’t answer either. He stumbled past them, kneeling in the wreckage. His hands shook as they hovered over a small, crumpled figure on the ground.
Ethan followed his father’s gaze and froze. A boy, his boy, lay twisted among the shards of glass and metal, his face pale as paper.
“Daddy… why are you crying?” Ethan whispered, his voice small in the thick silence.
Liang’s shoulders shook. He pressed his forehead to the body on the ground, the sound of his sobs breaking through the hum of the wind.
Mei Lin reached for her husband, but her hand passed through his shoulder like smoke.
“Liang?” she called.
But he didn’t answer.
Her breath caught. She turned to Ethan. He was staring at his own body, his small hands trembling, his lips parting in slow, dawning horror.
“Mommy…”
The mist around them thickened, curling like pale fingers. Somewhere in the distance, the wail of sirens cut through the night.
Mei Lin pulled Ethan close, not with arms, but with the sheer will of a mother refusing to let go.
She whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
And together, they faded into the fog, leaving Liang on his knees in the cold, clutching what he could never bring back.
This story is a prequel to Some Roads Remember What Others Forget.
