And then—
A child’s voice.
Faint.
Terrified.
“Dad?”
Hannah grabbed my arm.
It was Benjamin.
My youngest son.
Alive after the impact.
“Dad, wake up.”
I began to sob.
The official report said all four had died instantly.
But Benjamin was speaking.
The recording continued.
Footsteps approached.
A car door slammed.
Then Miles’s voice cut through the rain.
“Check the vehicle.”
Another man responded.
“Two in the back are gone.
The father’s not moving.”
“What about the youngest?”
A pause.
“He’s breathing.”
Hannah made a strangled sound.
The next words destroyed me.
Miles spoke calmly.
“Then we have a problem.”
A child whimpered.
“Please.
I want my mom.”
I recognized Benjamin’s voice immediately.
No mother could ever forget that sound.
I lunged toward the recorder.
“Where is he?”
Hannah caught my hands.
“Mom—”
“WHERE IS MY SON?”
But the recording wasn’t finished.
A car door opened.
