In it, both girls leaned against the sides of my wheelchair, laughing because I had forgotten the camera timer was running.
Katherine studied the picture.
"You've grown so much," she said.
Greta tore a piece of bread into smaller pieces.
"That usually happens in ten years."
"You've grown so much."
I gave her a quiet look.
She looked down, but she did not apologize.
Katherine wrapped both hands around the soup bowl.
"What grade are you in?"
"Eighth."
"And you like school?"
"Sometimes."
"What grade are you in?"
The answers landed one at a time, polite and closed.
Katherine turned toward Amelia.
"What about you?"
"Fifth."
"Do you have a favorite subject?"
Amelia considered Katherine carefully.
"Music."
The answers landed one at a time.
"I used to love music."
Amelia nodded.
"Dad knows."
The room stayed still around that sentence.
I reached for my tea.
Before my fingers touched the mug, Amelia moved it closer and turned the handle toward my right hand.
