came the voice again. Coral tried to bring the face into focus. The man she saw was bigger than the one she had fought, this voice pitched lower, and with no edge of insanity. “You’re not him,” she whispered. “Who?” Trying to say it wasn’t important to answer, she shook her head. Mistake. Nausea rose in her. “I’m sick,” she said. “You have a concussion, I think.” Yes, of course, that made sense. “I don’t think your skull is broken, but you really took a solid hit,” the man said. “Two,” she said, before she could consider the wisdom of telling him anything. Her voice came from an odd distance and seemed not to be her own. “One bad one, at least,” he said. “It’s not bleeding any more.” His gaze moved over her head. She started to reach up and feel the sore spot but remembered how horrible that had felt the last time she touched it.
