"Levian Weber and Livia Weber are wanted in the principal's office," said a voice on the loudspeaker.

Levian was confused. He didn't do anything bad— well, not bad enough for a trip to the principal's office. But he headed to the principal's office anyway.

Livia was almost crying. When did her get-in-trouble streak kick in? She buried her face in her hands and walked to the principal's office.

"Hello, dears." The principal was sharp and thin with long white hair that was luscious and flowing, curled into a bun that looked very painful. On her table, there was a sign reading, PRINCIPAL CLISPER. "Olivia, it's fine, you're not in trouble." she said gently.

"It's Livia," said Levian flatly.

"As I said, Livia, you are not in trouble. Your father has had a dreadful accident. I believe it was a car accident—" at this their eyes widened "—you are excused from school. I hope he is okay."

***

"Ma, what happened?" Livia asked.

"A car rammed right into your father. Worse, it was in the front part. Right where he was driving." Mrs. Weber said, watching the road. She was driving the twins to the hospital.

Livia and Levian looked at each other.

"D-D-Did he, I mean, how badly injured is he?" Levian was afraid of the answer.

"He was lucky, and still he has to spend a bunch of months at the hospital, when he comes home-" her voice began to wobble "-the doctors said he probably won't ever be the same."

***

Levian and Livia looked down on their dad. He was sleeping. Their were many things connected to the left side of his body. On his face was a long cut. The bedside table was so covered with medicine pills that you could barely see the wood.

"Come on, kids. It's late. We have to go home," their ma said.