Author's note: The story will be getting very dark again soon. This chapter is just a taste of what's to come.
"Roger, answer the phone!" Charlene had a hangover, and was irritable. Still determined to stay out of her way, Roger bit back the snide remark that sprang to his mind, instead grabbing the phone and flopping onto the couch. "Hello?" An official sounding voice answered him. "Is this Roger Davis?" Roger frowned. "Who's asking?" The person on the other end sighed. "This is Doctor Anderson at the county hospital. We have some bad news. A Saylinda Jackson was just brought in. You were listed on her contacts list. There was also a Mark Cohen brought in to us." Roger's heart lurched. "Why? What happened?" The doctor sighed again. "Miss Jackson and Mr. Cohen were in a semi-fatal car accident. They were hit head on by a large Range Rover. Mr. Cohen survived. He's got some scrapes and bruises, and some minor head trauma, but other than that, he's perfectly fine." Roger's breath caught. "And Saylinda?" The doctor paused. "I'm terribly sorry, Roger. Saylinda did not make it." Roger froze. "Wh-what? You mean she died?" "Yes." The doctor's voice was grave. "If you could come down, the police would like you to give us a positive id. Then you can take Mr. Cohen home, since we can't reach his parents." The line went dead. Roger stared at the phone for a long, agonized moment, then shouted upstairs, "I'm taking the car!" He ran out the door, phone in hand, and started the car, throwing it into reverse as he dialed Maureen.
"Are you kidding? Tell me you're kidding!" Maureen's hysterical screamed through the speaker. Roger held the phone away from his ear. "I wish, Maur. I'm on my way to get Mark now, and…" he fought to keep his voice from cracking. I'll swing by and pick you up. Be there in five." He switched the phone off, and hung a left onto Maureen's street. Maureen hopped in as he was coasting to a stop. They didn't say a word to each other; Maureen was in tears. Roger fought to keep his own from surfacing. He focused on driving, and, miraculously, made it to the hospital. The doctor waited. "You Roger?" Roger nodded. "Where's Mark?" Doctor Anderson nodded. "Of course. Follow me."
Mark sat curled up on the windowsill in his room. Maureen went straight to his side, pulling him into her arms. Roger stood numbly in the doorway, trying frantically to think of some way that Saylinda could have survived. He turned to the officer at his side. "How did she die?" The officer looker grim, and pulled Roger away from Mark's room. "Your friend there was driving," he muttered. "He wore his seatbelt, and the airbag deployed instantly. That was what saved him. Saylinda was not wearing her seatbelt, and when the car was hit, her head flew forward, striking the airbag at the exact angle needed the snap her neck. She died instantly, feeling no pain." Roger nodded. "I…I think I'm ready to see her now." The officer nodded. "Come with me."
Roger froze outside of the hospital morgue, steeling himself. The officer placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's hard seeing someone you love dead. You don't have to do this quite yet." Roger stared straight ahead. "I'm ready." The officer sighed. "Before you go in, you should know something. We ran blood tests on both of your friends. Mark was completely clean, but Saylinda…her blood alcohol level was .1, and she had trace amounts of marijuana and cocaine in her system. Had she survived, she'd be going to jail for illegal substance abuse. We think she may have seen a car that wasn't there, and in trying to grab the wheel from Mark, she steered straight into the other lane, in front of the Range Rover." Roger's face stayed emotionless, but his eyes registered shock. "Can I see her now?" The officer nodded. "Go ahead." Roger took a deep breath and opened the morgue door.