Nine
“Jesus loves me …” Bea leaned back to inspect her drawing. Songs from time with Mrs. Timm always made her feel better.
She glanced toward the bedrooms.
Quiet.
Red color now. The heart had to be red. Or pink. She fiddled with the pink crayon, then picked up the red one and colored in the heart.
She leaned back again.
Perfect.
Well, she’d missed a line there. Where was that black pen Clarence had given her? It was like a skinny marker. A few little flowers would cover the missed line.
There.
She tapped the black pen on the table as she traced the flowers with her finger.
A deep breath came out of her mouth. It had come from deep in her tummy. She knew it—she was sure. She didn’t know how. She just knew it made her feel better.
She glanced at the floor, under the table, at the
