Her face was streaked with mascara-y tears, and she was clinging to her cell phone like it was her only friend in the world. “Frank! Joe!” she cried when she saw us come in. We ran over to her. “What’s going on?” Frank asked urgently. Sharelle shook her head. “Oh, gosh,” she breathed, closing her eyes. A couple more tears squeezed out of the corners, following the trails down her cheeks. “I don’t know exactly, except that Neal was hit by a car downtown. It was going fast for the city, and he was unconscious when he came in. The hospital called our house, and I was the only one home. My parents are on their way from work in the city. The doctors are working on Neal now.” She paused, then swallowed and squeaked, “I hope he’s okay.” “I’m sure he will be, Sharelle,” I said, putting my arm around her. I didn’t know at all, of course, but I know a person who needs comfort when I see one. I glanced at Frank over Sharelle’s head. His expression was as grim as I felt.