Voices.
"Mild traumatic brain injury, several stitches, no broken bones, but a badly bruised hip. The CT showed no significant swelling of the brain, but until she's fully conscious we won't know if there is lasting damage. Brain injuries are tricky and we want to be optimistic, but we just don't know yet."
A squeeze to my hand preceded my father's voice filling the room. "I'm having a neurosurgeon flown in from Johns Hopkins. We aren't taking any chances."
Yep, that's my dad. Always the best of everything for his only child. I tried to form words. That didn't work, so I tried to form just one. No luck. My hand lay limp within his. I focused and finally my fingers did what I wanted them to. His warm hand gently squeezed mine back.
Another burning pain traveled through my head and the world went dark again.
***