Just when despair was closing in, the two-lane stretch suddenly widened into three lanes, and traffic began to flow. Off to the side, there was an exit ramp leading off the highway, and right beside it sat a hospital.
Hope surged through me. I wrenched the steering wheel toward the exit. But Cecil swung his truck over and planted it squarely alongside me, boxing me in.
No matter how I turned the wheel, it was useless. I was pinned in place.
His voice came through the speaker, dripping with mockery.
"Trying to run? Not a chance."
All I could do was watch the exit disappear behind me.
I pounded the steering wheel and blared the horn until my palms ached. Cecil only laughed louder.
When I twisted around to check on my father-in-law, he was lying motionless on the floor. Not a sound.
"Dad! Don't pass out on me. Hang on!"
I kept turning back, shouting at him, trying to pull him back to consciousness.
He didn't move. He didn't respond. I had no idea if he was alive or dead.
I hated them. Both of them.
If they hadn't boxed me in out of sheer spite, I would have made it to the hospital. The man who had given me everything wouldn't be lying there, hovering between life and death.