Soft music played from her room and she began to dance. She was tall and blonde and wore a pale blue shirt, collar up and cuffs rolled back one turn, ...ver a short, diaphanous white skirt. Her movements were slow, sinuous and her body had that elastic quality of all good dancers.On one turn, she paused and looked at me, peering it seemed into the half light.“You dance beautifully.”“Hah, you should tell my sister that. She dances for some ballet corps and tells me I dance like a horse having a. The first two times they worked furiously to resuscitate me, restore a heartbeat, respiration, CPR, the basics… it was sausage factory emergency medicine at its finest, with unsung heroes stubbornly refusing to let death win. The third time, however, I was truly dead. Or so they say – all the best medical minds with all their monitors and other gadgets agreed that there was no way back, not from an alpha coma.They were just waiting for my next of kin, my twin sister, to come in from Seattle to. He curled up his pillow under his head and reached out his hand to play with her hair.She smacked his hand away again and got up, reaching for her bathrobe. She turned and glanced at the clock. They had been asleep for less than an hour. She didn't want to look at him, refused to look at the picture he made. There he was laying in her bed, under her sheets, looking way too damn sexy for her own good. He was all male, with bare chest and mussed hair encamped in her flowered sheets like he. He asked about the ring around Valerie's neck and I said, "I asked herto become my wife and to put it over her heart until the big day." Hesmiled and said, "You are a lucky man; she hasn't felt that way aboutanyone else in a long time. If she is doing that for you then she trulyloves you."As we finished our side chat Bryan came running into the room. He saidHannah hurt herself and to come quickly. Valerie and I bolted after himas fast as we could.Hannah was holding her arm, there was blood on.