“Mom?” he asked.

“Yes, Toby?”

“Where did my watercolor set go?” he asked.

His soft voice held no anger, only quiet, confused bewilderment.

“I wanted to paint the big green oak tree outside the window while I waited for you.”

“Where was it, Toby?”

“It was on the little tray before the nurse wheeled my bed away,” he said, speaking slowly as he remembered.

“Aunt Brenda came into the room while they were unlocking the wheels.