It was a gray winter afternoon. The black, sleek car was traveling fifty miles an hour when it hit the ice. Like a graceful dancer, it began a slow, horizontal pirouette as it slid toward a steep embankment and then disappeared over it. Inside, a young woman screamed as the car rolled again and again like a ball careening downward and spinning at the same time. That woman was my sister.
One hundred miles away, an older woman with gray hair suddenly rose out of her chair.
"Something has happened to Gail!" she gasped.
The telephone rang forty minutes later.
"Your daughter has been in an accident. She is not...