Looking around groggily I found my brother in the chair beside the bed starring at me intently. He moved to sit beside me. “How are you feeling?” He asked in a quiet voice, his distressed expression making him look years younger. “Fuzzy.” I used my left hand to rub my face, annoyed that my dominant hand was broken. It would make the next little while difficult. “You broke your arm,” he stated the obvious. I knew from the snapping sound and excruciating pain when I fell it was broken. I’d had a fracture once before as a kid, this had been far worse. “And you have five stitches in your head.” “I figured,” my vision took a minute to focus. I saw Ollie clearly, his eyes troubled and his face pale in the terrible hospital lighting. I felt bad for him. His restaurant and his sister had been damaged tonight. “Now you’ve broken two more bones than me,” he said. “So you’re finally admitting you did break my toe and not just bruise it?” “I’ll give you that if you admit it was an accident on my part,”
