FIVE CARS
The first reports described it as one of the worst crashes the city had seen that month.
Five vehicles.
Multiple casualties.
Several people were trapped.
Emergency crews rushed to the scene.
The news spread online almost immediately.
Then someone recognized one of the cars.
A black vehicle.
Felip’s vehicle.
Within minutes, A’TIN accounts around the world began posting.
Is that Felip’s car?
Please tell me that’s not him.
Someone please confirm he’s okay.
Nobody could.
Pablo received the message while sitting at home.
He read it twice.
Then stood.
“Guys.”
Josh looked up.
“What?”
Pablo turned the phone around.
Justin’s face immediately went pale.
“No.”
Stell grabbed the phone.
“No, no, no.”
They reached the accident scene as emergency crews were still working.
A crowd of A’TIN had gathered behind police barriers.
Some were crying.
Some were praying.
Others were filming.
Pablo pushed forward.
“Felip!”
An officer stopped him.
“I’m sorry. You can’t cross.”
“He’s my brother.”
“I understand, but you need to stay back.”
Then the emergency responders pulled someone from the wreckage.
A body.
Dark clothes.
Familiar shoes.
A familiar bracelet.
Justin stopped breathing.
Stell grabbed his arm.
“Justin...”
Justin shook his head.
“No.”
The body was carried toward a dark transport van.
The kind used for victims who had died.
Felip’s family arrived just as the doors opened.
His mother saw him.
She collapsed.
“Felip!”
Pablo turned away.
Josh covered his face.
Stell cried openly.
Justin couldn’t move.
The world seemed to become silent.
Then the responder said the words nobody wanted to hear.
“He’s gone.”
