Chapter 3: The System Fails
300 words
The roar of Preston’s engine was replaced by the flashing blues and reds of the patrol car. I was still on the ground, clutching the muddy bills, when the officer approached. He didn't rush. He walked with a clipboard, shining his flashlight into my eyes, blinding me again.
"You blocked the intersection, ma'am," the officer said flatly, nudging a piece of my bumper with his boot.
"He ran the red," I rasped, trying to stand, but my legs wobbled dangerously. "It was a silver sports car. He was speeding."
The officer scoffed, looking at my battered sedan and my waitress uniform. "A silver sports car? Around here? Sounds like you were tired, maybe fell asleep at the wheel." He closed his notebook. "We'll file it, but without a plate number or witnesses, it's your word against a phantom."
Despair clawed at my throat. I needed a traffic violation lawyer just to prove I wasn't crazy. The paramedics loaded me onto the stretcher, the movement sending spikes of fire down my spine. As the ambulance doors closed, I saw the tow truck hooking up my only means of transportation.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and money I didn't have. I lay on the gurney for hours, shivering under a thin blanket. Finally, a nurse approached, not with pain medication, but with a clipboard.
"Ms. Miller," she said, her voice devoid of sympathy. "We tried to run your insurance. It was declined. Missed payment last week."
The room spun. A no insurance car accident meant financial ruin. The hospital bill debt alone would bury me before I even left the room. "Please," I begged, tears mixing with the dried blood on my face. "I just need help."
She clicked her pen. "We can stabilize you, but we can't keep you. Policy."
End of Chapter 3
