Free Sisters by Danielle Steel

of the steel pipes had gone straight through their car, as it careened wildly and finally stopped after it had hit two oncoming cars. Cars behind them and ahead of them came to a screeching stop, and traffic backed up instantly, as someone called the police.
    There was no sign of movement in any of the cars that had been hit, and the driver of the truck stood by the side of the road crying, as he looked at the scene of carnage his truck had caused. By the time the police came, he was in shock and unable to speak. Fire trucks came, ambulances, highway patrol, local police. The drivers of all three vehicles had been killed, along with a total of five passengers. There was only one survivor, the firemen were able to ascertain, and it took half an hour to get her out of the car. She had been pinned under the steel pipes, and she was unconscious as the ambulance drove her away. The rest of the victims were taken out of the cars, laid down on the highway, and covered with tarps, as they waited for more ambulances to arrive. The police on the scene looked solemn as the traffic backed up for miles. It was what always happened on the Fourth of July. People got in car accidents, tragedies happened, people died and became statistics. Jane had flown out of the car when the pipes hit them, and died instantly. And as they drove Annie to the trauma unit at Bridgeport Hospital, she was barely alive, clinging to life by a thread.
    At the house, her sisters chatted with their father, innocently enjoying a hot sunny summer day. They were expecting their mother and sister back at any moment, and had no inkling that they would never see their mother again, and that their sister was fighting for her life.

Chapter 6
    Two men from the highway patrol rang the Adamses' doorbell shortly after twelve-thirty. They had left the scene of the accident as Annie was taken away in the ambulance. They had found Jane's driver's license in her handbag in the car, and they could tell from Annie's that she was Jane's daughter. She still had her parents' Connecticut address on her U.S. driver's license. She had an Italian license in her handbag as well. If necessary, highway patrolmen were allowed to notify next of kin by phone, in case of an accident. But Chuck Petri, the officer in charge at the scene, thought it was inhuman to do that. If something had happened to his wife or daughter, he would want a real live human being to come and tell him, not a phone call. So he sent two patrolmen to the Adamses' address and handled traffic at the scene himself, as they directed a single file of cars to move past the crushed cars and tarped bodies, going five miles per hour. The highway would be tied up for hours.
    The two patrolmen ringing the bell looked acutely uncomfortable. One was a rookie and had never done anything like it before. The senior officer with him was his partner and had promised to do the talking when someone answered.
    It took a few minutes for someone to come to the door, since they couldn't hear the doorbell clearly from the pool. Sabrina had just said she wondered where their mom and Annie were. They had been gone for nearly an hour, a lot longer than it took to get to the store they had in mind. Maybe the store was closed and they had had to go somewhere else for the pickles and mayonnaise. Tammy went to answer the door when they heard it; she was going to the kitchen to get something to drink anyway. She pulled open the front door and saw them through the screen door, and as soon as she did she could feel her heart pound, and forced herself to believe that this couldn't be as ominous as it appeared. They were probably there about some minor infraction, like the sprinkler leaving spots on the neighbor's window, or the dogs making too much noise. That had to be it. The young officer was smiling nervously at her, and the older officer looked at her with a somber frown.
    “Can I help you, officer?” Tammy asked, looking him directly in the eye,