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so bright that Elly shielded her eyes. It seemed impossible that she’d been cooped up inside for more than two weeks.
    She thought it would be hard to ride in a car again, but it wasn’t. Her mother drove carefully. She pulled into the driveway and helped Elly out, holding the crutches until Elly gained her balance. Elly noticed that the wooden porch needed painting and the screen door squeaked when it opened. Inside, the house looked the same. It smelled of tomato sauce and oregano.
    “Welcome home!” A banner was hung across the bottom of the stairs.
    “We’re glad you’re home, honey.”
    Elly shrugged off her mother’s hand. “I think I’ll sleep for a while,” she told her mother. “I’m more tired than I thought I’d be.” She hobbled up the stairs to her room. She carefully looked the other way as she passed the closed door of Kathy’s room.
    Alone in her room, Elly dragged a chair to the window and pushed it open. She stared out at the trees that brushed across the screen. The leaves were dark green and mature. April was gone, and with it, the bright color of spring green. The air smelled warm and sultry. Soon, the North Carolina summer would push its way into the city. Summer. A sisterless summer. Elly crossed her arms on the sill and rested her cheek against her forearm. Although she had promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore, she broke into tired sobs.

SEVEN
    T hey went to church together on Sunday. It was strange with just the three of them going. The altar was covered with lilies. Elly watched the light spill through the stained-glass window behind the altar. It covered the flowers with rainbows. The minister smiled at Elly from behind the pulpit. It made her feel self-conscious.
    Mr. Rowan fidgeted with his tie and squirmed in his seat. The hymnal looked tiny in his big, calloused hands. After the service, people Elly didn’t even know kept offering their sympathy. By the time they got home, Elly had a terrible headache. Exhausted, she limped up to her room.
    It was late afternoon when Elly finally woke up. She lay on her bed for a few disoriented moments. Then she went down the hall, passing Kathy’s room. The door seemed to pull her toward it. Try as she might, she could not walk by without wanting to go inside. Finally, she gave in. Quietly she opened the door to the white and pink bedroom and went inside.
    The stillness in the room was eerie. Elly looked around at the familiar objects. Everything was neat and tidy. The bedspread stretched across the bed like a fluffy pink satin cloud. White pillows of eyelet lace nestled in a clump at the headboard. Elly ran her hand up the post at the corner of the bed, feeling the smoothness of the wood.
    Kathy’s dresser was still lined with her makeup and perfume bottles. Elly squirted the scent of lavender into the air, and then backed off, afraid that the fragrance might touch her. She couldn’t bear the thought of it clinging to her skin.
    Kathy’s CDs and books stood in orderly little stacks. Photographs, taped to the mirror, stared down at Elly. They reminded her of other times, other places—a summer vacation, the Christmas they’d both gotten new bikes, school friends whose names Elly couldn’t remember.
    “Elly? Are you all right?”
    Elly whirled around at the sound of her mother’s voice. Her heart pounded as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. But her mother’s face looked concerned, not angry.
    “I’m fine. I—I just thought I needed to look around.”
    “I understand. I haven’t gotten up the strength to go through her things yet.”
    Elly saw through a crack in the closet door that Kathy’s clothes still hung in neat color-coded clusters. “What will you do with all of her stuff?”
    Mrs. Rowan shrugged. “I want you to take anything you want for yourself. I think we’ll give the clothes away to the church charity fund. The furniture . . . I don’t know yet.”
    Given away.
That’s what they were going