I lay there in a daze, with pain shooting through me. I must have twisted my ankle in the fall, because it was throbbing. My side also hurt from where I had hit the pile of books.

“Rhonda!”

It was my brother’s voice, and he was standing just outside my bedroom door. Panic overcame me, and I tried to call out to him, but my voice wouldn’t work.

“Rhonda! You okay?”

“Don’t come in!” I tried to yell, but it came out more like, “dunkonme!”

I guess he heard the ‘come in’ part just fine, because my bedroom door burst open, and he hurried to me, kneeling at my side....