The Unstoppable series - Part 4 - FINAL Part
"Champion. Wife. Woman who loved too deeply - and almost lost everything."
In the final chapter of this story, Miriell and Toto are finally free to be together-no masks, no lies, no fear. Under the flash...
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Germany, Hockenheimring, August
POV Toto
I knew I had to do something. Miriell still didn't remember me, but I could see that her body did.
She could play the guitar. She grabbed tools in the garage without hesitation. And when she sat down at the piano, her fingers instinctively found the keys.
That gave me hope. If those skills were rooted in her so deeply—maybe driving the car was too?
I didn't want anyone to know about it, so in secret—away from the media—I arranged a test day at the track in Germany with a few trusted people from the team.
I wanted her to feel who she had been.
***
When we arrived at the circuit, Miriell looked confused, but not afraid.
She looked at the asphalt ribbon of the track, at the garages and the mechanics. I saw curiosity in her eyes, even if there was no recognition.
"Is this where I worked?" she asked, looking at me.
"Yes," I replied with a faint smile. "You were the best on the track."
She looked at the car standing in the garage. She didn't touch it right away.
She observed, analyzed... then took a step forward.
***
The guys helped her into the suit and helmet. I watched her as she got ready, and images from the past flooded my mind.
Her determination. Her fire. That spark in her eyes when she got into the car, as if it was her destiny.
Now it was different.
She didn't remember. But her body did.
When she sat in the cockpit, her hands found the steering wheel on their own.
Her fingers instinctively reached for the buttons. She didn't have to ask what they did. She knew.
The mechanics looked at me, and I nodded.
The engine roared to life.
And then—she drove.
***
I watched her take the first laps. She was cautious, but smooth. With each turn, she grew faster.
I knew her driving style better than anyone.
It was her. She was herself.
It didn't take long before she started to push. Her car sliced through the track with a precision that couldn't be taught – a precision you were simply born with.
