When we got it to the mechanic, he whistled and said we were lucky. He said that crack was under so much pressure that the tiniest bump from the wrong direction could have broken it into a million pieces and showered us with shards of glass. Now, as Mom put her hands to her face and shook her head, I felt like that windscreen. Crack, crack, crack. A fracture started behind my navel, the brittle pieces shivering, on the edge of letting go. I hunched forward, pain exploding through my body.
