My brother and I are twins. When we were very young, my dad once took me out to get a haircut while my brother stayed home with our mom. Not long after we had left, I started tugging at my dad’s hand, repeating the words “Bob hurt” again and again.
My dad thought it was strange. He tried calling home, but no one answered. That made him uneasy, so he decided to head back right away. When we got home, the house was empty—this was back before cell phones—so we just waited.
Eventually, my mom returned with my brother, and it turned out he had taken a bad fall and needed stitches.