(SPEECH)
[MUSIC PLAYING]

(DESCRIPTION)
A red umbrella twirls then stands upright on a white background.

(SPEECH)
SPEAKER 1: Shreya loved to sing. Music for her had energy. We could hear her singing throughout the house in every room. She was a soprano, and the only sixth grader in the high school choir. That's when I felt, my God, this girl has something in her.

(DESCRIPTION)
Leafs through photos.

(SPEECH)
The day she passed away, Shreya was coming home with some other girls. The driver was reaching out for something, and got distracted. That split second she crashed right into a cement pylon. The other three in the car did not get hurt, but my daughter was lost. Shreya was killed under circumstances which were totally preventable. And that's the sad thing.

I have no way of knowing what she would have been, a business executive, a great singer.

(DESCRIPTION)
Extends palms upward.

(SPEECH)
We will never know that. That's very painful.

(DESCRIPTION)
He nods. Text, In Shreya's honor, we imagined her unfinished story.

(SPEECH)
[MUSIC PLAYING]

(DESCRIPTION)
An animation. A woman in passenger's seat with book and headphones. The driver grabs for a sandwich and swerves to correct the vehicle. Shreya writes sheet music on a page inside the book. Text, Every Time I breathe. Shreya's Unfinished Story, The Stage.

A School of Business. Shreya waves to another student and smiles as she walks downstairs. Shreya sits at a coffee shop desk and looks out the window with brows raised and a slight frown.

She types a Global Economics Thesis on a laptop. She takes a sip of coffee and stacks the empty mug with two others. Her phone lights up. Text, Now. Sis, Still working on that paper?

She puts her head in her palm and frowns. She flips a page and reveals the sheet music she wrote earlier in the car. Her eyes widen. She looks across the street at the Madison Music Hall sign and smiles.

The text transforms from Tonight Sunday Strings to Tonight Shreya Dixit. She smiles beneath her fist. She looks down at the sheet of music and it blows away. She chases it out of the coffeeshop and across the street, where she catches it in front of the music hall.

A lone microphone on the stage. She looks down at her music, smiles and approaches the microphone. She unfolds the music.

(SPEECH)
SPEAKER 2: (SINGING) Every time I breathe, every time I'm dreaming in my bed, seven days a week, thinking of the words that I once said to you. I still wake up wishing I could just move on, tell myself I'm OK, I did no wrong. But that day comes back to me, every time I breathe,

(DESCRIPTION)
Text, Distracted driving takes the lives of nine people each day, leaving their stories unfinished.

(SPEECH)
Every time I breathe.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

(DESCRIPTION)
Shreya Dixit, 1988 to 2007. Photo of Shreya.

Text, Let's end distracted driving. A red umbrella twirls then stands upright on a white background. Every Second Matters. travelers dot com slash distracted driving.