Senna's Daughter - Carlos Sainz/ Lewis Hamilton

Chapter 26 - I'm sure we were both in our dads' 7 minutes

This chapter is dedicated in loving memory of Anthoine Hubert, who passed away on August 31, 2019.

I was walking through the paddock to get to the McLaren Garage. Right at that moment I saw the Williams Garage. I have been avoiding to make eye contact with even the "Williams" name. Oh gosh, I was not ready for this.

Everything started to flash before my eyes. —the crash video that played over and over in the media, his funeral, and the national mourning declared in Brazil—all surged through my mind. The vivid images of my grandfather, standing stoically in the courtroom as the judge interrogated the engineers and Frank Williams issued his apologies, haunted me. After the crash, my grandfather was determined to find out whether the fault lay with my dad or the car. He never wanted to take me to the court but I insisted so much that he had no choice left. He sued them 3 times. In all 3 of them, the court said it was caused by some factors such as mechanical failure, namely a broken steering column, and possibly a design flaw in the car. Also, factors such as driver error or excessive speed have also been considered. However, they could not reach an end. My grandpa never wanted to admit that it was my dad's fault so we as a family chose to believe that it was a design flaw in the car.

Lost in these thoughts, my breathing became labored. Before I knew it, I was crouching down, the world spinning slightly as I fought to draw air into my lungs. Tears streamed down my face as I stared blankly at the ground, overwhelmed by grief and the weight of memories.

Suddenly, a voice broke through my turmoil. "Hey, Gabriela, are you okay?" The concern was evident, but I couldn't place who it was in my distressed state. I did not think there could be somebody around to save me.

When he spoke again, imploring me to look at him, I slowly lifted my head and recognized Charles. His expression was one of deep concern as he hurried over.

"Oh my god! What happened?" His voice was laden with worry.

"I miss him. I miss them," I managed to whisper between sobs, my voice breaking under the strain of my emotions. I didn't need to explain further; he understood immediately who I meant.

Charles sat beside me on the ground, his presence comforting. "Oh come here," he murmured, pulling me into a hug.

I tried to speak again, to explain, but the words dissolved into tears. "I was walking down the pad..." was all I could get out.

Charles gently urged, "I understand you. Just try to breathe. Focus on your breath, please." He started counting softly, guiding me to breathe in and then out.

We continued this breathing exercise for a few minutes until slowly, my breaths grew steadier, and calmer.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, his tone still tinged with concern.

"Yeah, better."

"Did somebody tell you something bad about him?"

"No, no," I sighed, my voice shaky. "I was just walking down the paddock to the McLaren garage. I've been avoiding the Williams name for months. But today, I saw it... and it just hit me all at once. You know what? When I saw the Williams garage, I felt like my dad might just walk out in his racing suit, take my hand, and take me home. It's been 23  fucking years, and I still have this hope. I am crazy."

"You're not crazy," Charles quickly assured, his tone comforting. "You know, sometimes when I see the Haas garage, I wish so badly that Jules would just walk out alive and hug me. Even though it's not Marussia anymore, I still hold on to that hope. I understand how you're feeling, and I'm here with you."

"Oh, Charles..." My voice faltered as fresh tears welled up, and I noticed his eyes were glossy too. We sat there, crying quietly, then silently gazing up at the sky, lost in our shared grief.