Chapter 3 - THE DINNER
The night of the crash began at Richard and Linda’s house.
Sunday dinner.
Pot roast.
Red wine.
Tyler had already arrived when Emma came in.
He was supposed to be sober.
Technically, he was not prohibited from drinking every single day under his current arrangement, but his attorney had warned him repeatedly that further alcohol-related trouble could ruin everything.
Linda poured him wine anyway.
Emma noticed.
“Should he be drinking?”
Linda gave her the look.
Not now.
Tyler laughed.
“Officer Emma reporting for duty.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Relax.”
Richard continued carving meat.
No one wanted conflict.
That was the Carter family religion.
No conflict.
Even if avoiding conflict meant letting danger sit at the table.
By dessert, Tyler had finished three glasses.
Maybe four.
He said he needed to leave.
Richard offered him the guest room.
Tyler refused.
Linda offered to call a rideshare.
He called it humiliating.
Then he looked at Emma.
“You’re leaving too, right?”
“Yes.”
“Drive me.”
Emma agreed.
That was the last reasonable decision anyone made that night.
In the driveway, Tyler asked for her keys.
“No.”
“My car’s blocked in.”
“You’re not driving.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been drinking.”
He laughed.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Emma opened the passenger door to put her bag inside.
Tyler reached across her.
Snatched the keys from her hand.
By the time she reacted, he was already behind the wheel.
She should have walked away.
Called police.
Called his attorney.
Called anyone.
Instead, Emma made the mistake families of reckless people make every day.
She got into the passenger seat because she thought being beside him was safer than letting him drive alone.
“Pull over.”
“No.”
“Tyler.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You don’t have a valid license.”
“Neither does half Virginia.”
“Pull over.”
He accelerated.
Emma grabbed her phone.
May you like
Tyler slapped it from her hand.
That was when she realized this was no longer an argument.
