placed the heel of her hand firmly over the wound trying to stop the bleeding, but blood oozed between her fingers and drizzled down in tiny crimson rivers. There was so much blood. And beneath her palm she felt his faint, thready, almost airy, heartbeat racing but no stronger than the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings. “Sen?” His voice sounded thick as blood choked his words. “Shh, don’t talk.” She heard the sirens. What was taking so long? She cradled Daniel closer, rocking him, feeling him shivering from shock, and cursing her inability to warm him. A police car screeched to a halt nearby. “Over here!” Seneca screamed and waved. “Over here! Help! Please help!” And then she noticed the silence. The dead silence. The absence of the terrible sounds coming from Daniel’s body. The cessation of the flutter of the hummingbird. The heaviness of his body. “No, no, no. Please, Daniel. Please, don’t leave me.” More emergency vehicles arrived. But it was too late. Seneca leaned back her head and stared up at the sky. “Why? Why?” She dropped her gaze to the man she loved and gently stroked his face before pressing her lips to his forehead. Her tears mixed with his blood as she looked back into the smoke-filled sky. “Why?”
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