The pain hit before I registered what happened. One moment I was checking measurements on the building’s foundation, clipboard in hand. The next, I was staring at the sky, a crushing weight pinning me to the ground. The sound, metal on bone, would haunt me forever.
A sickening crack that told me something inside me had shattered beyond recognition. “Crane cable,” someone shouted. “Get help. ” I couldn’t move.
Three hundred pounds of steel had collapsed directly onto my left leg and hip. The world narrowed to a pinpoint of blinding agony. I tried to scream but could only produce a ragged wheeze as dust filled my lungs. Workers swarmed around me, their faces blurring together.
Someone was pressing something against my leg. Another person cradled my head, telling me not to move. I heard sirens in the distance. “Stay with us, Tess,” said a voice I recognized as Remy, one of the junior engineers.
“Ambulance is two minutes out. ” I wanted to nod, to say something, but blackness crept in from the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was the broken crane cable swinging lazily above me, its frayed end dancing in the wind like an accusation.