Oh no, I'm paralyzed! I couldn't move my arms or hands.

I felt a sharp pain. The bones in my hands were being crushed under someone's strength. Maybe I wasn't paralyzed after all. When I turned my head, I saw Dad. Lovely Dad. He smiled, but without the happy lines that circled his eyes. I knew that look. He was trying to be brave for daddy's little girl.

He said, "Loren, you're awake."

"How's Franco?" With a raspy voice, I sounded like a stranger.

A hint of dread glossed over his eyes a moment, but he masked it with purpose. "He's fine, baby girl."

What was Dad sad about then? The paramedics had saved Franco! He would've never forgiven me if I left him. He needed me, and I needed him.

I had a concussion and wasn't allowed to fall asleep for the next twenty-four hours. At least that's the assumption I got from all the adult mumbo jumbo my doctor was saying to Dad. They acted as though I wasn't even in the room.

Sitting on the hospital bed, I leaned over. If I didn't hold on to the edge, I'd fall over. I hardly had any energy. When they finally released me from the hospital, I had to be wheeled out. How embarrassing.

I buckled my seatbelt and glanced over at Dad. He turned the key in the ignition and didn't even notice my stare.

If my brother was fine, why wasn't he leaving with us? "Where's Franco?"

Dad ran his soft hands through my hair, messing up my ponytail, which wasn't hard to do. I already had bed hair. "We'll talk about everything when we get home." Pulling the car out of the crowded hospital parking lot, he looked straight ahead, avoiding me.

"Home. Is that where he is? Where's Mom? Is she with everyone? I hope there's no 'Welcome Back' party for me. I have a headache."

"I need you to relax, baby girl, please."

I leaned back into my seat. "I am relaxed."

Dad laughed quietly to himself. He still seemed distant, as if I wasn't even in the car. "I see that. I just mean don't over-analyze and stress yourself out," he said.

"I'm not stressed. I'm happy Franco's home. Do you think he'll mind if I sleep in his room tonight? I'll sleep on the floor. I won't bother him, because he'll probably have a headache, too."

Dad pulled the car onto the side of the road. The tires ran over weeds, pebbles, and dry grass. He put on his flasher lights and turned the ignition off. It took him a minute to look over at me. I was scared, really scared. Dad put his hand on my shoulder and said, "You've always been strong. I need you to be strong now, Loren." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Your mom and I raised you not to lie, but I broke that rule. I was so happy when you woke up. You'd been passed out for hours. I didn't want to upset you. The doctor said those first few moments were the most important, and I didn't want to jeopardize your recovery." Dad put his hand under my chin and raised my head so I could look at him. The calmness left his voice, and tears fell from his eyes. "I couldn't lose you, Loren. I couldn't." He sniffed. "It's not an excuse. I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Soaking in Dad's confession, I sat in silence beside him. After he let my chin go, I looked out of the window and wrapped my arms around myself. Dad had lied to me? I closed my eyes. The only question he answered back in my hospital room was about Franco, so he must have lied about his condition. The only reason Dad would do that was because...

Because...

Because...

Franco was gone!

I started hyperventilating and choking.

"Relax, honey! If you've gotta throw up, let it all out." Dad reached over and opened my door. "Please, honey, relax."

I stepped outside and threw up. A gush of water and other nasty pinkish liquid gushed out of my mouth and landed on the ground. After I was done, I got back in the car. Dad pulled me into his arms. I listened to his heartbeat. I had to be strong. I couldn't let Dad down.

I stayed in Dad's arms for a long time. The cars driving past were a blur. Eventually, Dad let me go. My anxiety returned. I'd never see Franco smile again. Franco would never let me sleep on his floor after I scared myself silly watching a horror movie. Franco would never see me dance again.

I remembered when my cat died. I was only ten, but I had thought I was responsible enough to take care of a pet. In actuality, Franco watched over Polka Dot. He helped me feed her, play with her, and clean up her litter box. One day, I had accidentally left the front door open for too long. I was trying to get my bicycle out of the house, so Franco and I could ride around the neighborhood. Polka Dot zoomed past me. She didn't even make it to the driveway before our neighbor's boxer mauled her. I had been so traumatized that Franco was the only one who could calm me down.

Who would calm me down now?

Driving, Dad focused his attention on the road. Life went on after all, unless you wanted to end it.

My gaze never left the window. I tilted my head, so Dad couldn't see my face. I wanted to hide my tears and prove that I was strong for him. I wish he would've turned on the radio. With neither of us talking, it was too silent. The whirling of the engine wasn't enough noise to distract me from the emptiness I felt inside.

After a couple of miles down the busy road, Dad rubbed my shoulders. "Are you okay?"

I nodded my head, never looking away from the window. "Yes, Dad."

"Are you mad at me? I'll understand if you are."

"I'm not mad at you. You had to do what you had to do." I hesitated. "When?"

There was an unspoken bond between Dad and me. He already knew what I was talking about without me even having to hint at it. "It happened instantly. The cops caught the driver, a scared teenager who just got his license. He had been showing off for his friends."

I pulled my leotard away from my throat. It was suffocating me. Even if I had gotten away from Mr. and Mrs. Denton, it woudn't have mattered. Franco had already been dead. Splattered on the street like a dead art exhibit. I bet it happened the second I felt those cramps as if Franco and I were one.

Now, we would never be connected again.

"Does Kina know?"

"Yes, she knows Franco is gone. She was worried about you, begging me and your mom to let her come visit you in the hospital. She'll be relieved when we get home."

"I mean, does she know all the details?"

"Oh, well, I don't know. I never told her, but maybe your mom did."

Please forgive me. "Does Angela know?"

"Where is this coming from, baby girl?"

"I just wanna know...Is that wrong?" I looked deep into Dad's eyes. People constantly lied, but the eyes were the windows to their souls. The eyes never lied.

He looked at me for a moment, and then he glanced at the road again. "Of course, it's not wrong. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression."