What a storm! Damn that last client! Though I’m no saint either. Couldn’t I have just refused that out-of-town job?
It’s nearly the end of my shift. But no—I chased the big bucks. Now I’m driving, trembling with fear. Just let nothing happen! The rain’s pouring like from a bucket. The wind’s so strong it’s bending trees nearly to the ground. A nightmare!
I had to slow down, or an accident wouldn’t be far off. Suddenly, a frail figure flashed in my headlights. A girl! Has she lost her mind?!
— What are you doing out here?! — I shouted through the window, pulling up beside her. — Get in the car!
She hesitated for a second but then climbed into the cab. The poor thing was soaked to the bone and shivering from the cold.
— Thank you for stopping. I’ve been hitchhiking for an hour, and everyone just drives by. But I only have a little money…
— No worries. I’m heading home anyway—I’ll take you for free. How’d you end up out here at this hour?
— I had a fight with my fiancé.
— And he left you alone? At night, in the middle of the woods in this weather?!
She only nodded sadly…
— How could he? What kind of man does that?
She stayed silent, but I could see tears rolling down her cheeks. Or were they just raindrops?
— Where do you live? — I asked her.
— Not far. Just before the city, there’s a suburban neighborhood—my house is right at the edge.
Suddenly, she grabbed my arm with icy fingers and screamed.
— Pull over to the shoulder! Quick!
— Why?
— I feel sick! I need air.
I slammed on the brakes. She bolted out of the car. I was about to follow to help her when a deafening crash and the sound of snapping branches came from behind. Turning toward the road, I saw the bright lights of a truck. It had skidded on the turn. The vehicle barely stayed on the edge of the ravine, taking down several trees in the process.
My God! If I hadn’t stopped, I’d probably be dead. That girl saved my life…
I rushed to the crash site. The driver had already jumped out onto the road. Thankfully, he was unharmed.
— Let me drive you to the city.
— No, thanks. I’ve already called for help on the radio. Go on!
Back at my car, I called out to my passenger. She slipped into the cab and sat quietly in the seat.
— If it weren’t for you, I’d have been in that crash… Thank you so much!
— See how it turned out—first you helped me, and now I helped you.
We drove in silence for a while, then I turned toward the neighborhood.
— We’re here, — she said. — That’s my house. I’d invite you in, but it’s really late. Thank you so much for the ride.
— No, thank you. What’s your name?
— Faith, — she replied with a smile.
— Good night, Faith! And dump that fiancé. He doesn’t deserve you.
The next weekend, I bought a bouquet of flowers and headed to Faith’s place. I wanted to thank her again. Pulling up to the house, I knocked on the door.
A woman about forty-five, who looked a lot like Faith, opened it.
— Good afternoon! Sorry to bother you. Is Faith home? We’re casual acquaintances. I just stopped by…
— My daughter passed away, — the woman interrupted in a hollow voice.
A nightmare! Just a week ago, we were talking, and now…
— I’m so sorry… — I whispered.
— Faith died in a crash along with her fiancé, George. If you’d like, we can visit her grave. You can leave the flowers there. She loved them.
We walked to the edge of the neighborhood, passed through a gate, and entered a completely different world. Here, no one was in a hurry anymore. No need to.
Faith’s mother walked past fresh graves and stopped, for some reason, at the very end of the cemetery.
— Here… — She wearily gestured toward a headstone with a photo of her late daughter.
“I don’t understand… A headstone already? But it’s not allowed before a year…” Then I glanced at the date of death, and… How is this even possible? The plaque showed last year…
— The anniversary of her death was just a week ago, — Faith’s mother said, noticing me studying the dates.
My heart sank with primal fear. Either I’m dreaming, or a week ago, I picked up a ghost!
— Was she your only daughter?
— Yes. Faith. Now it’s just me…
I placed the flowers on the grave and looked at the photo again. Faith was exactly as I remembered her: beautiful, gentle, and, most importantly—alive…
— My condolences. I’m sorry, but I have to go… Take care…
— Thank you for remembering her…
I didn’t tell Faith’s mother what happened to me a week earlier. I didn’t want to hurt her. She’d already suffered enough, losing her daughter…
Now, every evening, I mentally thank Faith…
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