Dizzy’s world is plunged into chaos as she and her moth­er arrive at Par­adise Springs Hos­pi­tal in the dead of night, grap­pling with the ter­ri­fy­ing news of Wynton’s grave injuries fol­low­ing a hit-and-run acci­dent. The hos­pi­tal, more akin to a small, rur­al clin­ic than a ful­ly equipped med­ical facil­i­ty, exudes an eerie and cold atmos­phere, where bustling activ­i­ty con­trasts with the emo­tion­al des­o­la­tion sur­round­ing them. Nurse Cyn­thia informs them of Wynton’s crit­i­cal con­di­tion, describ­ing mul­ti­ple frac­tures, a severe­ly crushed hand, and the pos­si­bil­i­ty that he may remain in a coma. Dizzy’s heart sinks fur­ther as she thinks of Wyn­ton, a gift­ed vio­lin­ist, poten­tial­ly los­ing the abil­i­ty to play for­ev­er. The very hands that had cre­at­ed beau­ti­ful music for years are now the cen­ter of her grief, and she is con­sumed with the fear that his iden­ti­ty, so intri­cate­ly tied to his music, may be per­ma­nent­ly altered.

As Dizzy’s emo­tions spi­ral into a mix of des­per­a­tion and sor­row, she finds her­self seek­ing solace in prayer, although she admits to her moth­er that she doesn’t know how to tru­ly pray. The idea of speak­ing to God feels for­eign, yet Dizzy clings to it, hop­ing for some form of com­fort or guid­ance. In an attempt to regain con­trol over her over­whelm­ing emo­tions, she turns to med­i­ta­tion under Cynthia’s guid­ance. How­ev­er, despite her efforts to focus, Dizzy strug­gles to qui­et the storm of thoughts that over­whelm her mind. She is acute­ly aware of her iso­la­tion and longs for her old­er broth­er, Miles, to be there with her. In that moment, Dizzy comes to a qui­et real­iza­tion: even the pres­ence of strangers might offer some com­fort, as the shared human con­nec­tion could alle­vi­ate the unbear­able weight of anx­i­ety and fear that has tak­en over her life.

As the long, ago­niz­ing hours drag on, Dizzy’s emo­tion­al tur­moil deep­ens, lead­ing her to make des­per­ate promis­es in an attempt to find any sem­blance of con­trol. Her thoughts are con­sumed by the idea of dras­tic changes she would make in her life if Wyn­ton were to sur­vive, includ­ing con­tem­plat­ing a vow of devo­tion to become a nun. This extreme promise stems from her pro­found sense of help­less­ness and emo­tion­al exhaus­tion, as she seeks to nego­ti­ate with a high­er pow­er for her brother’s life. In the midst of this tur­moil, how­ev­er, a sur­pris­ing moment of lev­i­ty aris­es when Dizzy’s moth­er bursts into laugh­ter, recall­ing a child­hood rhyme, “Ms. Mary Mack.” This brief out­burst offers a fleet­ing but much-need­ed release from the ten­sion that hangs heav­i­ly in the air, allow­ing both moth­er and daugh­ter to share a rare, ten­der moment. For just a moment, their laugh­ter cre­ates a bond of light­ness amidst the oth­er­wise over­whelm­ing dark­ness sur­round­ing them.

The sit­u­a­tion takes anoth­er turn when Sher­iff Ortiz arrives with the unex­pect­ed news of Cas­sidy, the young woman who had inter­vened and per­formed CPR on Wyn­ton. Dizzy imme­di­ate­ly rec­og­nizes her as the girl she encoun­tered ear­li­er, and her mind races with a thou­sand thoughts. Cas­sidy, once a mere stranger, is now ele­vat­ed in Dizzy’s eyes as an angel­ic fig­ure, some­one who might have helped to save her brother’s life. How­ev­er, Dizzy’s con­flict­ing emo­tions sur­face as she grap­ples with feel­ings of guilt. She can­not help but reflect on Wynton’s actions that led to the acci­dent, and the bur­den of those choic­es weighs heav­i­ly on her. Dizzy feels torn between the relief that Wyn­ton might sur­vive, the grat­i­tude toward Cas­sidy, and the under­ly­ing anger she feels for her brother’s past deci­sions. As the chap­ter draws to a close, Dizzy and her moth­er are over­come with emo­tion, both in tears as they con­front the mag­ni­tude of their cir­cum­stances. Cassidy’s role in their lives has now become more sig­nif­i­cant than ever, and her unex­pect­ed pres­ence brings a glim­mer of hope in a world that feels uncer­tain and filled with despair.