“The bone is out of alignment,” Dave said quietly, getting an IV line ready.

“The orthopedic surgeon at St.

Jude will need to take detailed scans before they decide how to set it.”

Toby opened his eyes and looked up at me through dark, wet lashes.

“Why did Aunt Brenda throw my watercolors away?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

“She thought it would keep you quiet,” I whispered, leaning down until my cheek touched his hair.

“I’m sorry I let them sit you at that table.”