Penelope's POV
The weight of Elda's lifeless body in my arms felt like the entire world collapsing inward. This can't be real. This has to be a nightmare. I traced my fingers along the familiar curve of her cheekbone, now cold and waxy under my touch. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the fading traces of her vanilla shampoo created a nauseating perfume of loss. How many times had I teased her about using that cheap drugstore brand? Now I would give anything to smell it one more time as she leaned in to hug me.
"Elda, please," I whispered against her hair, my voice breaking like thin ice over dark water. If I hold her tighter, if I pray harder, will the universe rewrite this moment? My throat burned with unshed tears, each swallow like gulping shards of glass.
"Drive faster!" I screamed at the driver.
Fear thickened the air in the cramped car as I clutched Elda's dying form, as if my grip alone could somehow reverse death.
