Landon’s father was a ghost above him, a blurry and sobbing figure coming into focus. Landon read his lips. “Landon? Landon? Oh, God . . .” His father’s fingers scampered over his face and the right earpiece and the magnetic disc that had been knocked loose. “Landon? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry . . .” Landon opened his mouth to say he was just fine. Nothing came out, or maybe it did. His father’s panic and the bad sound and being on the grass disoriented him. One ear wasn’t working, but otherwise, he was more embarrassed than hurt. He tried to get up. His father’s hands now pressed him down. “Are you okay? I don’t know if you should move.” Landon shook his head and kept trying to sit up. “Dad, let me up. I’m fine.” 44
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