driving down the highway in my Lamborghini Aventador, the engine purring beneath me, the city blurring past, when out of nowhere, a flash of pink catches my eye. Jane—yes, that Jane Marie Carson—is barreling down the road in her pastel pink Rolls-Royce, not paying the slightest attention to anyone or anything around her. The world seems to slow for a second as our paths collide, her audacity is crazy I don’t even flinch. Calmly, I grip the wheel, assess the situation, and make the split-second adjustments any other person might panic over, but panic isn’t really in my vocabulary. The chaos she’s trying to create? It doesn't work on me of course she calls her husband screaming and crying saying I hit her and she's injured and I literally avoided hitting her she flip's over breaking both of her legs and one arm.