Phoebe was tough. The more life tried to knock her down, the stronger she got.

Every setback made her braver.

She never stayed down for long. She took off her coat, tied herself to Theodore, and carried him on her back.

The desert was way harder to cross than regular roads, especially with extra weight. They fell countless times, but finally, the highway was in sight.

Phoebe almost fell again but held on. She grabbed Theodore’s arms, his head on her shoulder, his faint breaths on her neck.

Even while gasping for air, she heard Theodore murmur a name, “Mia…”

Phoebe thought she had misheard. She quieted her breathing and listened closely: “Mia, don’t leave me…”

Phoebe was stunned. Memories flooded back, and she realized Theodore was the boy she had saved years ago.

Tears streamed down her face. Back then, she had carried him from the woods to the road, falling countless times.

Now, she was carrying him from the desert to the highway, falling just as much. The past and present lined up perfectly.

No wonder he looked familiar when she first saw him. They had met in childhood, even if briefly.

Phoebe laughed and cried. Her exhausted body found new strength, and she kept walking with him on her back.

“I won’t leave you, I won’t,” she said.

Thirty feet felt like forever. When Phoebe finally reached the highway, her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees on the asphalt.

Ignoring the sharp pain, she focused on supporting Theodore’s head. She quickly untied the coat, binding them, and cradled him in her arms. Under the moonlight, she examined Theodore’s pale face and lips.

She traced his features with her fingers. He still looked like the boy from years ago. How had she not recognized him?

Touching his forehead, she felt the high temperature.

She pressed her forehead against his. Theodore had a fever!

Phoebe panicked. She couldn’t wait any longer. If his wounds got infected, it would be bad.

Distant headlights approached. Phoebe laid her coat on the ground, placed him on it, and limped into the road to flag down a car.

A car sped towards her. Phoebe waved her arms, but it ran past without stopping.

The second, third car…

Phoebe grew more desperate. When the fourth car came, she dashed in front of it. The screeching brakes pierced the night.

The driver barely stopped in time, the car just an inch from Phoebe. The man inside leaned out, shouting at her.

Phoebe opened her eyes and saw the car had stopped. She quickly ran to the driver’s side, pleading, “We had an accident. My husband is seriously injured. Please take us to the hospital. We’ll reward you generously.” Seeing Phoebe covered in blood, the driver hesitated but, out of sympathy, pulled over.

“I’m not doing this for the reward. I just like helping people,” he said, getting out and helping Phoebe lift Theodore into the car.

As they lifted Theodore, Phoebe realized it was a pickup truck. But she had no choice.

Getting any car to stop was a blessing.

They placed Theodore in the back. Phoebe climbed in, held him, and let his head rest in her lap.

The car started again, heading towards the city center.

The driver took them to the hospital. Phoebe jumped out, quickly calling for doctors. They placed Theodore on a stretcher and wheeled him into the emergency room. Phoebe’s nerves relaxed, and she nearly collapsed.

The kind driver caught her. Phoebe remembered her promise to him and asked, “Can I borrow your phone?”

Though annoyed, the driver handed her the phone.

Phoebe quickly called John, telling him to come to the hospital immediately. John didn’t ask questions, hung up, and headed to the hospital.

Lawton was with him.

When Lawton and John arrived, they saw Phoebe, covered in blood, leaning against the emergency room door. They rushed over, shocked. “Phoebe, what happened?” Phoebe weakly leaned against the wall. She looked up at their anxious faces, her cracked lips bleeding, looking particularly pitiful.

“John, give him ten thousand dollars. Thank him for bringing us to the hospital,” Phoebe said.

John followed her gaze, seeing a burly man. He walked over and spoke with him briefly, then stepped outside together.

Lawton helped Phoebe to a chair, crouching beside her and looking at the scratches on her face. “Phoebe, what happened? Mr. Reynolds…”

Phoebe looked at the emergency room’s lit surgical light, saying, “He’s in there being resuscitated. We had a car accident.”

Lawton frowned. “A car accident?”

Phoebe was covered in blood and sand. They must have left the city.

Phoebe closed her eyes, recalling the accident. She remembered the Jeep reversing thirty feet before accelerating towards them. It was deliberate.

She licked her dry lips, tasting blood. Her voice was hoarse, “It wasn’t an accident. They did it on purpose.”

Lawton’s expression grew serious. “Was it the gambling den?”

Phoebe shook her head. “I don’t know. They drove a black Jeep, hit us off the road, and left. They weren’t trying to kill us.”

If not to kill, then it was a warning, likely from the gambling den.

Lawton stood up quickly. “I’ll take people to smash their gambling den.”

“Don’t cause trouble!” Phoebe grabbed his wrist and stood up with him. She felt dizzy and swayed.

Lawton quickly supported her. “Phoebe, sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

He turned to see John rushing in with a shopping bag. He opened a water bottle and handed it to Phoebe.

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