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It was race day once again, and todays race felt different. I didn't feel excited or thrilled but more sad because after this one I would be moving over to McLaren's garage and no more drinks on the terrace with Joe and no more sibling antics with Max that the media always find hilarious. I had to remind myself this morning that it was just another race, another opportunity for Max to prove himself on track and another great time to just enjoy the privilege I've been given to be here once again.

I sat myself in the garage behind where the mechanics sat and then one nodded to me to sit me with them all. It was nice to be among the crew for one last ride, we watched on and the nerves started to kick in on those final 5 laps. Max had been leading the race for the last 30 laps and with 5 more to go he'd secure yet another win.

4 more laps. Lance's Aston Martin had picked up the pace and was chasing down that redbull with force.
3 more laps. Max was giving the Aston Martin a slipstream and he couldn't avoid it.
2 more laps. Lance had DRS and he was dangerous. He decided with two laps to go to fly through the slipstream but as he did, Max defended his position. He defended it so well that  they both spun, Lance's car looked like a disco ball just spinning through the gravel. Max's car flew with speed straight into the wall as he'd lost control.

My heart dropped
I shut my eyes and opened them back up hoping it was all some silly prank. I jumped from my seat and ran out to the pit wall, careful not to get hit by the incoming cars now there was a red flag. I jumped over the barrier between the pit lane and Max's race strategist. I grabbed the headset and shouted to my brother
"MAAX" "MAX CAN YOU HEAR ME" "PLEASE MAX"
"I can hear you Lia, stop shouting my head hurts"
"Fucking hell Max! You could've died" "are you okay?"
"Copy. I am okay, just let me get out, I need some help getting out"
I watched over the screens as medics and track volunteers spread to the scene and helped my brother out of his car. He looked sore as he limped into the medic car. Through all my panic I'd forgotten about Lance. I ran over to the Aston Martin pit wall and found Lawrence Stroll's eyes dart over to mine.

"Can I help you?" He physically looked down at me as he spoke, this man oozed with a dickhead attitude without even trying.
"Is Lance...okay?"
"We'll see I'm not sure"
"Could I just use the radio to speak with him?"
"Be my guest" and I was surprised that Lawrence had dropped his headset and walked back into the garage to see the rest of the team.
"Lance" I tried to hide my worry, after all the shit he'd put me through, I still felt I needed to see if he was okay. "Lance, do you copy" "radio check Lance"

"Lia, yes, yes I copy" he groaned in pain and seeing as we had no visual on him, I couldn't imagine how much pain he was truly in. "Lia I'm sorry" his heavy breaths were filling every silence between each radio message that came through.
"Lia I am so so sorry"
"Lance" "I copy do you copy Lance?"
Nothing.
The team snapped their heads behind the pit wall where the medic car could be seen and an ambulance. We had no idea what the damage was to the car but more importantly we didn't know the damage to the driver.

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