“But I need you to do something for me, okay?” she said. “I need you to close your eyes. I need you to close them until I come back there and tell you that you can open them. No peeking. Can you do that for me, Ezzie? Nod your head if you can do that for me.”

I nodded my head.

“Okay, close your eyes now, baby.”

I closed my eyes. Closed them until there was nothing but black.

I heard both car doors open and close. The back door opened, I felt Dad heave himself beside me, and it closed again. I heard the faint whir of a dial tone.

“Yeah, I’d like to report an accident,” said Dad. “We hit a car, I think they ran a stop sign. The woman in the passenger seat, I think she’s… uh… Look, my kid’s in the car with me, but it’s bad. Uh. Lynbriar. Lynbriar Lane and… um… Bellchase Drive. Yes, Carbondale. Yes. Yes. Okay. My wife’s a doctor actually, she’s already checking on them. Yeah. Well, I realize that, but this woman really looks… Okay. Okay, thank you. Okay, bye.”

Silence. I felt Dad’s hand, ruffling my hair, pulling my head into his chest.

“How ya hangin’ in there, bud?”

“I’m hangin’,” I said.

“Eyes still closed?”

I nodded my head against his chest.

“Good. Keep ’em closed. We’ll get you ice cream.”

“Birthday-cake ice cream?” I asked.

“You bet.”

“With sour gummy worms on top?”

Dad chuckled. “That sounds awful, but sure. Whatever you want.”

We stayed that way for a long time. Not talking. Not really needing to. I knew something bad had happened, but beyond that, I hadn’t a clue. Dad’s presence told me that everything was going to be all right, and I guess that was all I needed to know.

I may have fallen asleep at some point. It was hard to tell. All I knew was that the whole blurry ordeal felt like hours, but the hours seemed to melt together into something smaller, more fluid, manageable.

Finally, the back door opened again. A new body filled the empty space beside me. Pulled me away from Dad and squeezed me. Held me desperately. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was Mom.

I could feel her crying into my hair.

“Mom?” I said, sleepily. “Are you okay?”

Mom sniffed. “I’m okay, honey. I just love you so much. You and Willow both. You two are everything to me.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

Mom seemed to hesitate. “Okay. But before you do… there’s an ambulance and some police cars here. But don’t worry. They’re all here to help, so don’t be scared, baby. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay. You can open your eyes.”

I opened them.