33“Sabrina was suddenly floating through the morning sky. Dancing on clouds.” Five-year-old Sabrina was reading to her little sister from a large picture book with bright whimsical drawings. The illustration showed a little girl tossed around in a blue sky, as if riding a breeze.
I liked sitting in the middle, with my arms around them, but the three-year-old was squirmy and it was bedtime. Skye’s folks had gone to a concert and Skye had disappeared into her room. Didn’t even eat the mac and cheese I made.
“Her name’s not Sabrina, it’s Anna,” said Daphne. Then she read over Sabrina’s shoulder, “She lands in enchanted water and sails away on a dolphin.”
“You can’t really read,” said Sabrina. “You have it memorized.”
“Do not.” Daphne continued to read. “Smiling, swimming, jumping.”
Sabri
