”“Seriously?” I sighed.“Yes. You’re clearly not recovered from the concussion.”“I thought it was mild,” I protested.“It was, but you...had a concussion ten years ago, and that can make it harder to recover from a second one.”“What are you worried about, Al? I can see it in your eyes.”“Post-concussion syndrome.”“What’s the treatment?” I asked.“Time. I want you to do nothing until next Monday except sleep, eat, and relax. Minimal physical activity, and nothing that requires you to concentrate;. He smiled as he pictured her, young and supple, with the hauteur that Parisian women were famous for, a lover of one of the Resistance leaders. He saw the address on the small street; an apartment in an old brick building. He climbed the stairs to the flat and banged forcefully on the door."Oui?!" Her voice was quick and impatient. The door flew open and a woman peeked out. She was only twenty one or twenty two. Her brown hair was limp and her bangs fell across her high forehead and stopped an. More

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