Chapter 3

Amanda Jamieson, the little girl, survived. A compound fracture of her left leg, and a badly bruised and scraped body and head would take months to mend. But she would, in time, heal physically.

The people involved with the healing of Lewis thought that he was fortunate. Grateful to be alive he was; it was the anger towards the hit-and-run driver that motivated him to get better as quickly as he could.

Lewis suffered a spinal fracture; three of his vertebrae were broken, and one was pressing on spinal nerves causing numbness. His left side was badly bruised and the front and right side of his face were wrapped in bandages covering the areas where the skin was scraped off when he fell to the ground. The pain was unbearable. The emotional pain he felt over the loss of Toni was far worse. Not having her in his life now was beyond his ability to deal with. She was a hero, giving up her life hoping to save the life of the little girl. She was going to save his, too, had she lived. He knew it, even if they had made a connection for only a few hours.

Toni Chapin was buried on a warm, sunny day. The minister provided an eloquent eulogy to an overflow gathering at the church. Many attendees felt comforted by his words. Some did not, their grief being inconsolable. Several people shared heartwarming moments of memories of her. Not one bad thing was said about her, like at most funerals, except in this case, there was nothing bad to say. Everyone wept.

Sitting mutely in the front row, sunglasses in his pocket, Lewis’ brain let the words in while his eyes let the tears out. Paying close attention to him was Sharon Chapin, Toni’s mother. She had no idea who he was or how he knew her daughter, but she was going to find out.