The van kept rolling forward, passing no more than arm’s length from Zula, and as it went by she got a direct view, through the driver’s-side window, of Yuxia in profile. The airbag was deflating and peeling away from her face, but she was staring dully ahead, stunned by its impact, and the weight of her foot must still be on the gas pedal. "Yuxia!" Zula cried, and she thought that Yuxia stirred; but the van accelerated and followed the taxi off the end of the pier.