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tearoom and on the lawn just before the car hit Sunny. A book lay across her stomach in case her mom or dad looked in and asked what she was doing. She needed time to concentrate.
    She reviewed the sounds and smells. In the tearoom people were chatting, silverware and dishes were clinking, and Dr. Peterson was tapping a glass for attention. And as far as scent, there were fresh-baked scones and cakes. Outside on the lawn, children were laughing, the beach ball was thumping back and forth, there was the smell of newly cut grass and of the lilac bushes in full bloom. What was missing? She was getting sleepy and out of ideas.
    All night, Jessie tossed and turned, dreaming disturbing dreams. In one, she searched for something in a long room and didn’t know what it was and couldn’t find it.
    In the morning, she discovered her sheets twisted around her legs. She was freeing herself when Phillip appeared at the foot of her brass bed.
    “Hi,” he said.
    She was in no mood for him. “I’m tired, Phillip. Go find Mom.”
    “Go to Sunny house?”
    “That’s not a bad idea. Let me eat and practice my lesson and we’ll go see Sunny.”
    He nodded, ran from the room and shouted to his mother, “See Sunny house!”
    All clean in a fresh blue playsuit that matched his eyes and his curly hair damp from combing, Phillip took Jessie’s hand and walked up the brick path to the Peterson cottage.
    “Can you ring the bell?” Jessie asked.
    He stood on tiptoes in his little brown sandals and managed to reach the doorbell. When he stretched, Jessie realized how tall he was growing.
    Bryce answered the door and said in a whisper, “Your timing is perfect. She’s too quiet today. I think wearing the brace is starting to really bug her.” He led the way.
    As they drew closer to the living room, the sound of lovely piano music reached them. Jessie stopped to listen and held Phillip back. “Is that Sunny playing?”
    Bryce nodded. “She’s good, isn’t she?” They waited until the music stopped and then entered the room. Sunny sat on the piano bench, her right leg propped up on a footstool.
    Jessie walked to the piano, a small grand in the corner by a window. “I wish I could play like that. It was beautiful!”
    Sunny swiveled on the seat and faced Jessie. “Thank you. Bryce told me you’re taking lessons so maybe we could play a duet sometime.” She glanced at Bryce pushing her wheelchair to the piano.
    “Oh, I just started.” Jessie said. “I’ve only had a couple of lessons.” She flipped back her braid. “But, I’m practicing every day. What were you playing?”
    “It’s a piece by Mozart. Right now I can only play Mozart or Bach because those early composers didn’t have pedals on their pianos when they wrote music.” Sunny shook her head and her bright curls danced in the sunlight coming through the windowpanes. “I can’t use the pedal because of my leg.”
    “But you will pretty soon,” said Bryce. “In the meantime you can give these pieces a lot of practice.”
    “What about going outside?” asked Jessie. “Could we push the wheelchair to the patio on the lawn?”
    “Sure,” said Bryce. “You push, Jessie, and I’ll open the doors and give Phillip a ride on my shoulders.”
    Phillip clapped his hands and said, “Okay.”
    Slowly they made their way through the house and then outside onto the winding path to the patio. Bryce arranged the wrought iron chairs at the table and raised the green umbrella. In the corner, a fountain bubbled in the morning shade.
    When Bryce took Phillip back inside to find something for them to drink and Jessie was alone with Sunny, she figured this was her chance to quiz the girl.
    “Do you remember hurting your leg?” Jessie moved a chair aside to make room for the wheelchair and pushed Sunny to the table.
    “They ask me that—Dad and Bryce—but I don’t remember anything.”
    Jessie glanced toward the house. There wasn’t much time. She could hear Bryce and