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red.
    “Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
    They would learn that even the strongest, most brutal, and most cunning are not invincible. The laws of life and death are cruel teachers.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 10

Lumikki was jealous. It was the first time in her life she’d realized it this powerfully. She had wanted to be someone else before, of course. Someone who wouldn’t need to hide the bruises when she got home and suck blood from her lower lip, to claim that she had just tripped on the way from school. But that had been more of a hopeless desire to get out of her own life than specific jealousy for someone else’s.
    Sampsa’s father carried in a big pile of pancakes and set them on the table.
    “These aren’t going to win any prizes,” he said.
    “Well, what do you expect when, the whole time you were cooking them, you had one eye on that iPad game of yours,” Sampsa’s mother pointed out and patted her husband’s arm.
    Sampsa’s little sister, Saara, was rocking in her chair.
    “I’m going to eat at least six pancakes!” she announced.
    “How does a penguin make pancakes?” Sampsa asked.
    “Um, how?” his sister asked.
    “With its flippers!”
    “What? Oh . . .” Saara said as the punch line dawned on her and she began laughing infectiously.
    “Okay, here’s another one,” he said. “What dinosaur loves pancakes most?”
    “What?” Saara asked.
    “Tri-syrup-tops!”
    Saara nearly fell on the floor giggling.
    “I’m here all week, folks,” Sampsa said, looking smug.
    “I blame their sense of humor on you,” Sampsa’s mother said to his father.
    Sampsa’s dad shrugged, grinning proudly.
    Lumikki watched the exchange in bewilderment.
    She wasn’t used to being in a family like this where people joked and laughed all the time. Sampsa’s family also seemed to talk nonstop. Words flew back and forth between them like balls being tossed around, some of them landing on the floor without anyone paying any attention. The conversation seemed almost chaotic, but it wasn’t. Everyone more or less kept up. Even Saara, who was only four.
    A certain amount of tender chaos characterized other aspects of Sampsa’s house as well. Even the most generous person could never have called it tidy. There was stuff all over the place: toys strewn across the floor, clothes draped over chairs, piles of magazines, piles of books, half-opened boxes and packages that could have been coming or going. Lumikki’s parents’ house never could have looked like that.
    Lumikki envied Sampsa’s family so much it made her heart ache. Everything showed that their life was here and now. They took care of each other and enjoyed each other’s company. They had fun. They were comfortable, without anything contrived or fake or pretend about them, even when a stranger like Lumikki was visiting. They had accepted her like a long-lost relative expected to participate in everything going on. Lumikki had never felt as welcome anywhere as when she stepped over the threshold of Sampsa’s home. Her own father’s Swedish-Finnish extended family had always felt distant to Lumikki even though they had their own happy songs and liked to talk. Every time she was with them, Lumikki felt like a black sheep everyone wished was different—happier and more social. Sampsa’s family was like Sampsa himself: without any demands or expectations.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Lumikki watched Sampsa, relaxed and smiling broadly as he piled pancakes onto his little sister’s plate. Lumikki knew she could never look like that with her family.
    Everything was so good in Sampsa’s life. His happiness was self-evident and yet completely deserved. He was a person who had room to be friendly and warm to others. In his world, there weren’t any silent secrets or threatening letters or the