Jonah nods, but he looks completely dazed. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“It’s all the memories,” I say. “Come, we have to get into bed really quietly! And quickly! Mom and Dad’s alarm already went off. That means they’re getting out of bed any minute. Time is back to normal now. Go, go, go!”

“But —”

I pick up Prince and we run — very, very quietly — up the stairs.

Our parents’ door is closed, but we can hear their muffled voices.

“Abby —” Jonah starts.

Later! I mouth, and I jump into my room and gently close my door behind me. At the same time, I hear my parents’ door open.

I dive under my covers.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” my mom says, opening my door and coming inside. “Time to get up.” She gently pulls my covers off. “Abby!” she exclaims, ogling my outfit. “You’re all dressed up!”

Huh? Uh-oh. I’m still wearing my purple satin dress!

Oh! I know! “Of course I am,” I say, hopping out of bed. “It’s your surprise birthday party! Come on in, Jonah! Surprise, Mom!”

Prince bounds in, his bow tie still on. “Ruff!”

Jonah rushes in next, bouquet of roses in hand, suspenders and bow tie still a mess. “Happy birthday, Mom!”

“Oh, wow,” she says. “Look at you guys! And those flowers are beautiful! I’m speechless!” Her eyes tear up. “You kids are the sweetest. But where did you get those outfits?”

Hmm. “Nana sent them for us,” I say. “Don’t you remember?”

She scrunches her eyebrows together. “No.”

I shrug. “You are a year older. Your memories must be getting fuzzy.”

My mom laughs. “Is that for me, too?” she asks, pointing to the wrapped painting on my desk.

“Oh,” I say. “Yeah. But it’s not …” I’m about to say that it’s not good. But maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe what matters is that I did my best. That it came from the heart. So what if I’m not as good an artist as Penny? I’m good at other stuff. Mr. Beast accepted who he is. Maybe it’s time for me to accept who I am. “Here you go,” I say, handing it to her.

“Oooh,” she says, unwrapping it. “Abby! It’s wonderful. So much color! I absolutely love it,” she says. And when I look at her shining eyes, the funny thing is, I know that she means it. Maybe beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say, my own eyes tearing up now.

My mom squeezes my shoulder. “Let’s go show Dad. He’s downstairs making birthday waffles.”

Jonah raises his eyebrows at me. “I need to talk to Abby for a sec.”

“You can talk to her at the table,” my mom says, ushering him out of my room. “C’mon, I don’t want you to be late for school.”