Prologue

Echo, slow down on this road. There's ice.

Karen, stop being a backseat driver. She's doing fine.

The sound of shattering glass had never been so distinct. It reached her ears a moment too late, sending a grating chill down her spine. There was screaming, yelling . . . crying.

Echo was lying in the car, strapped to the front seat. Her seat-belt was on her, cutting into her groin. For a fleeting moment she was almost certain that her ribs were cracked and broken, but all she could focus on was the strange thought that she was actually hanging upside down.

Echo? Can you hear me?

Her mother's voice, so weak and full of anguish. Karen was in pain, she knew, but Echo couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to make sense of anything more than that. She closed them. Somewhere in the distance, an ambulance siren wailed, splitting through the air, ricocheting off the buildings around them. The sound was terrible, but it covered up the sounds of her mother's sobbing. Echo wanted to tell her that it would be okay, not to panic, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

Daddy?

The thought came to her then, and a sense of dread formed in the pit of her stomach. She could hear voices now; frantic, terrified voices. They told her to stay calm. She wanted to argue that she was calm . . . that maybe they should try to stay calm, too. Of course, she couldn't say anything, but she could smell something. It smelled peculiar, like sticking your nose in a penny jar and inhaling. It was coppery, salty.

“Are they carrying ID?” someone said in her ear. Were they talking to her? She tried to nod, but her head wouldn't move. She felt paralyzed.

“I found it,” a male voice said. “Her name is Echo. Echo Davis.”

“Someone please try to ID the other passengers.”

“Echo?” someone else said to her. His or her hand intertwined with Echo's. “We’re here to help you.”

Echo could see a female paramedic on her hands and knees trying to reach inside the passenger's side door. She saw her mother turn her head and look at Echo, tears streaming down her face. There was blood, blood everywhere. Echo tasted the blood in her own mouth, just then realizing that the coppery smell had not been a jar of pennies. The metallic smelling blood was all around her.

Mommy...

I love you, baby, don't cry. We're going to be alright.

Where's dad?

In her ear, only feet away from the driver's side door, she heard them speak. They had no emotion; no sadness or regret in their voice as they spoke.

“Didn't make it . . . dead on impact . . . they already found the body on the road.”

Echo tried to scream. That’s all she wanted to do was scream, but she couldn't even cry. Terror gripped her chest, and she felt like she was having a heart attack. Her mouth was open wide, but not a sound came out, not even a peep. All those silly medical people around her, and she was still going to die.

“Mommy . . .” she whispered. “Mommy, I’m so sorry.”

“Echo.”

Her heart jumped, and then began to race. Sweat trickled down her neck and her palms went clammy and cold. She tried again.

“Mommy?”

“Echo.”

“Don’t leave me, mommy. Please don’t leave me. I’m so sorry. I love you…” she tried to struggle out of her seat belt, to crawl to her mother's side, but she couldn't. An invisible force pushed against her, smothering her. The odor of blood assaulted her nostrils, tickling her throat, but she kept on sobbing.

“Echo!” the voice was stronger now. Something seized her body, shaking her. It was tight and unpleasant. She kept on crying, unable to breathe, unable to think.

“Please . . .”

A violent jerk jolted her body. Her eyes fluttered open. Standing over her, peering down anxiously, was Michael. His large, rough hands had a hold of her shoulders. His fingers were digging into her skin so tightly that she flinched, wondering if they would leave a bruise. She sat up, drenched with sweat, letting his arms embrace her. Then she began to cry, hysterical whimpers that rocked the bed. Through her tears, she could see the clock next to her bed. It was three fifty four a.m. She knew she wouldn't fall back asleep.