Before she knew what she was doing, she tore herself away from Brian and sprinted toward Crunch. He didn't see her coming until she threw herself on his alcohol-filled body and dug her pink fingernails deeply into his neck. The stale smell of beer stung her nostrils.

"Monster!" she rasped. "I'm going to make you pay for this!"

One of the policemen pulled her away, but while she was still within earshot, Crunch mumbled, "Todd was my buddy. I was gonna buy that bike, y'know. We made a deal...." The rest of his words were lost as he sank into the backseat of the police car.

On rubbery legs Jessica walked back to the medical team as they were loading Elizabeth onto a stretcher. She waited until her sister was safely inside the ambulance before climbing in alongside her.

Jessica wasn't prepared to see her twin lying so limply under an oxygen mask, an IV tube taped to her pale arm. My God, she looks dead. Jessica thought, horrified.

"You're fine," she said aloud, cupping Elizabeth's left hand in hers. "She's going to be all right, isn't she?" Jessica asked the paramedic kneeling next to her.

Looking sad and tired, the man sighed deeply. "We're doing all we can. The rest is going to be up to her."

"Elizabeth Wakefield, listen to me!" Jessica cried. "It's me, Jess. You've had a little accident, and they're taking you to the hospital, but you're going to be all right. I just know you are. Do you hear me?"

Elizabeth continued to lie motionless, unresponsive to her sister's plea.

"Liz, you're going to get better," she said. "I'm going to make sure of it, you hear?"

But even as she said the words, Jessica had the horrible feeling that there was a very good chance she could be wrong.

Ten.

Ned and Alice Wakefield arrived at the emergency room of Joshua Fowler Memorial Hospital shortly after receiving the call from the police. "Where's my daughter?" Ned Wakefield demanded of the nurse on duty.

The nurse looked up from her charts and said, "The doctor will be with you in a moment. Please have a seat." She pointed to the row of chairs alongside the yellow-tiled wall.

Neither of Elizabeth's parents felt like sitting. They paced back and forth in the small rectangular waiting room, weaving their way around ten other people sitting anxiously in their seats. A short time later they were joined by their son Steven, who had left his dormitory room at college as soon as he'd heard the news.

"Any word yet?" he asked. His voice was hoarse from crying, but he tried to look as composed as he could.

"No," his mother said. "They're still working on her."

"Oh, Mom." Steven held his mother close. "She's going to be all right. Liz is a fighter. She'll never give up."

"I keep telling myself that, Steve."

His eyes scanned the room. "Where's Jessica? Does she know?"

"She's waiting outside the emergency room. On the phone the nurse told us she's been at Liz's side ever since the-the accident. She refused to stay out here in the waiting room."

All three looked up as the door to the waiting room opened and a lanky, youngish-looking man with a curly red beard came out. "Mr. and Mrs. Wakefield?" he asked, his eyes searching the room.

Steven joined his parents as they approached the doctor. "I'm Dr. Morales," he said, extending a hand to Ned Wakefield. "Chief of emergency medicine."

"How's my daughter?" Alice Wakefield burst out before he had a chance to say another word.

"Elizabeth's stable now, but her condition is serious. She's in a coma-"

The Wakefields all gasped. "Will she...?" Ned Wakefield let his voice trail off, unable to utter the unthinkable.

"We don't know how serious it is and how long she'll remain in the coma," Dr. Morales continued. "The next twenty-four hours are going to be very critical."

"What are her chances?" Steven asked.

"Her vital signs are steady right now. She has a concussion and a few gashes on her legs, but she doesn't appear to have any major injuries. We're doing some tests now to see if we can measure the extent of brain damage."

"Just like Rexy," Alice Wakefield gasped, slumping against her husband.

"I don't want to alarm you," Dr. Morales went on. "It's quite possible your daughter can make a full recovery. But whenever someone receives a blow to the head, especially one as severe as the one she sustained, we can't rule out the possibility of brain damage. I just want you to be prepared."

"I want to see her," Elizabeth's mother said.

"Of course," said Dr. Morales. "We've moved her to the intensive-care unit. Her sister is with her now. You'll be able to see her soon. I'll have a nurse come and get you."

The Wakefields were too preoccupied to notice Todd's arrival. He took a seat in a corner of the room and waited quietly. After he'd been examined and released by the doctors, he'd made a few phone calls and then returned to await word on Elizabeth's condition. His father was with him. As soon as Dr. Morales left, Todd walked nervously up to the family.

"How is she?" he asked.

Ned Wakefield's worried face grew angry when he saw the boy. "She's alive for the moment-no thanks to you!" he shouted.

"You have every right to be angry at me, sir."

"Damn right I do. What on earth was she doing on that thing?" he rasped.

"You broke your word to us, Todd," Alice Wakefield said softly, but with an intensity that echoed her husband's.

Todd thought he had cried all he could, but now he was once again reminded of his terrible part in the tragedy. His eyes brimming with tears, he muffled a sob. "I know that, Mrs. Wakefield, and I'm sorry. You've got to believe that I never in my life wanted this to happen."

"It should have been you in there instead of her," Steven spat out with uncharacteristic bitterness.

"Don't you think I realize that?" Todd cried, the tears now flowing shamelessly down his cheeks. "Don't you think I've been telling myself the same thing, wishing I'd never let her on that motorcycle?"

"I think we'd better go now." Todd's father, Bert Wilkins, put his arm on his son's shoulder and led him away from the Wakefields. Returning briefly to the bereaved family, he said, "I'm very sorry. Our thoughts are with you."

Ned Wakefield nodded silently as Bert Wilkins walked back to his son. "Your mother's worried about you," he said. "Let's go home now."

"No, Dad. I want to stay here and wait."

"There's nothing you can do for Liz now, and under the circumstances I think the Wakefields would prefer to be alone. You can come back in the morning."

Picturing the look of hatred in Mr. Wakefield's eyes, Todd realized his father was right. His presence in the waiting room would do little to comfort them. But certainly the hospital was big enough for him to wait someplace else for word on his girlfriend. "No, I have to stay near her, Dad," he insisted. "I'll be all right."

Seeing the look of determination on Todd's face, Mr. Wilkins sighed and said, "OK. But call the minute you hear anything."

A few minutes later Mr. Collins, who had been notified by Todd about the accident, entered the waiting room, followed closely by Enid and George and more than a dozen of Elizabeth's friends, who'd left the party to see how she was. After consulting with the Wakefield family, Mr. Collins explained the situation to the kids, then urged them all to go home.

The last to leave was Enid, who hugged Elizabeth's mother and comforted her with the knowledge of how well her daughter was loved by everyone.

"I'll be back in the morning," Enid said, her mascara-streaked face showing her concern, "and if there's anything I can do for you, please let me know."

Mr. Collins stayed behind after everyone had left. He was as concerned about Elizabeth as anyone and sat down next to the Wakefields to await further word on her condition.

"You don't have to stay," Alice Wakefield told him.

"Your daughter's a very special person to me. I'd like to stay, if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind. I know Elizabeth would like it. She's spoken about you often."

"Is there anything I can get you, Mrs. Wakefield?" he asked. "Some coffee, perhaps? Or you, Mr. Wakefield? Steven?"

They were all touched by his kindness, but none of them could eat or drink anything. "Thank you, but not now," Mrs. Wakefield said. "Perhaps a bit later."

Mr. Collins rose. "If you'll excuse me, then, I'm going to get myself a cup at one of the machines. I'll be back soon." Mr. and Mrs. Wakefield both nodded.

Mr. Collins followed the signs to the vending machines. As he walked into the corridor leading to the hospital's main wing, he found Todd, staring out of one of the big glass windows that overlooked the parking lot.

"You look like you need a friend," Mr. Collins said. When Todd didn't respond, he grabbed the boy around his waist. "Come on along with me," Mr. Collins said, leading him down the hall to the coffee machine.

Mr. Collins fished in his pocket for some change. "Want some?" he asked.

Todd shrugged. "I guess I could use it."

The teacher handed Todd a steaming cup of coffee. "Thanks for calling me tonight."

"I knew you'd want to know," Todd said miserably, joining Roger Collins at a nearby table.

"How are you feeling, Todd?"

"Under the circumstances, terrible. But I wasn't hurt, if that's what you mean. Just a few cuts. I just wish Liz..." He left the rest unsaid and looked down into his coffee.

"It must have been awful for you, Todd. Would you like to tell me what happened?"

Encouraged by Mr. Collins, Todd spoke about the accident for the first time. "It still seems so unreal." He shook his head, remembering the final moments before the crash. "We were coming down the hill-I was going slowly, taking my time, when all of a sudden I saw these huge headlights glaring at me. I tried to swerve and get out of the way-but it was too late." He pounded his fist on the edge of the table, coffee spilling over the edge of his Styrofoam cup. "The police told me Crunch was really loaded. I knew the guy had been downing beers all night, but I never thought he'd be stupid enough to take off in his van."

"You knew he'd been drinking?"

"Yeah, pretty ironic, wouldn't you say? The guy goes and smashes up the bike he's planning to buy. See, I agreed to sell him the bike, Mr. Collins. Tonight was going to be my last night on it...." Todd took a deep breath, trying to contain the rage within him. "Oh, if only I'd put my foot down and said no to Liz. This would never have happened!"

Roger Collins was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Liz insisted on riding with me tonight," he revealed. "At first I thought it was a crazy thing for her to ask, but she really wanted to do it. Just once, she said to me. And I couldn't resist. The truth was, I didn't want to."

"And you blame yourself for that?"

He shook his head. "There's more. You see, I promised her parents I'd never let her on that bike. But I thought no one would find out if. I let her ride just once. I wanted to have her with me-but I should have said no."

"I don't think you did anything wrong," Mr. Collins said. "Liz knew what she was doing."

"I don't think she planned on it ending up this way."

"Of course she didn't, Todd. But what happened wasn't your fault. I'm sure the Wakefields agree, too."

"That's where you're wrong. They don't want to see me, Mr. Collins. That's their daughter lying in a coma. They hold me responsible as Crunch McAllister for what's happened. And I am responsible, Mr. Collins, no matter what you say!" Todd put his head in his hands, and his tears flowed again.

Mr. Collins rose and grabbed Todd by his shoulders. "Calm down, Todd. It was an accident, a cruel accident. I know you didn't want this to happen to Liz, and I'm sure, deep down, the Wakefields realize it, too. Don't blame yourself for something that couldn't have been prevented."

"But I could have refused to take her!"

"And leave her alone at the club? You didn't force her to go with you. It was something she chose to do. We both know how headstrong Liz can be when she makes up her mind to do something." He paused to consider his next words. "There's something else to keep in mind, too. Something Liz confided in me tonight. She has an enormous amount of faith in you. Do yourself a favor and don't let her down by torturing yourself with thoughts of what might have been."

"It's not easy."

"I know. Look-"

"There you are. My mother sent me to look for you." Steven Wakefield rushed into the room at full speed and ran up to Roger Collins. His voice shaking, he cried, "Liz has taken a turn for the worse. They don't think she's going to make it!"

Eleven.

The strong yellow rays of the early-morning sun awakened Todd. For a split second he'd forgotten where he was and why he'd slept with his clothes on.

Then he remembered. The accident. And the horrible agony of the night before.

Todd had never been more scared in his life than in those agonizing hours when Elizabeth had hovered near death, when her life had been dependent upon the frightening-looking hospital equipment and the skill and persistence of the doctors. For a long time no one knew whether she'd survive the night. Nervously Todd had awaited the word on her condition from Roger Collins, who'd stayed with the Wakefield family through most of the crucial hours. He'd agreed that Todd should stay away from them for the time being.

After the doctors had finally gotten Elizabeth's condition stabilized again, Todd had given in to the fatigue he'd been fighting and he had curled up on an empty sofa in a second-floor lounge. Now that he was awake, though, he dashed quickly toward the intensive-care unit. There in the waiting room he found Ned and Alice Wakefield, their saddened eyes reflecting the strain of the all-night vigil. Hesitantly he approached them. He didn't care how they reacted to him now; he had to know.

"How is she?" he asked.

"The same," Ned Wakefield said wearily.

"But there's no brain damage, thank goodness," his wife added.

"Yes, the tests showed nothing wrong," Elizabeth's father continued. "But she's still in the coma."

"How long will she...?"