Trembling, I asked the young man who had just saved me, “How did you avoid that van?!”
In my disbelief, I forgot to thank him—he should’ve been hit head-on!

The driver, a middle-aged man, who had almost run me over, rushed over and exclaimed, gasping, “I’m sorry … I didn’t see you, miss … and I—uh, who are you talking to?”

That’s the last straw!
“Hey! You’re drunk! You didn’t see me and nearly killed me, and now you can’t even notice someone standing right in front of you!”
He seemed taken aback by my reproaches, but I had neither the desire nor the energy to argue.

Since the beginning, the young man had simply observed the chaotic scene with a slight smile on his lips. Finally, he offered his hand to help me up and said calmly:
“Don’t bother, he can’t see me. I’m an angel—and I’d like to make a pact with you.”