“Stay,” Rose said. “Maeve got new gloves for us, you and me.”

“Honey,” her mother said, bending down to look Rose in the eyes. “I have to go to court. I don't have a choice. But I want you to know—you don't have to worry about anything. You're here with Maeve and Clara, and I'll come home as soon as I can.”

“I don't want you to go,” Rose whispered, with a big lump in her throat. She knew that court was a place where important things happened. Gripping her mother's hand, she stared into her eyes for answers.

“I know you don't,” her mother said. “But I'm going for us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm going to tell the judge how much I love you.”

“Really?” Rose asked.

“Really,” her mother said. “There's nothing in the world more important than that.”

“Why do you have my hospital records?” Rose asked, because she had seen her mother going through them on the table last night, putting them into a folder that she told Dr. Neill she was taking to court.

“Because I want to tell the judge how much you've been through . . .”

“Been through together,” Rose emphasized.

“Yes, honey. I want him to understand that you have heart defects that have taken a lot of healing. A lot of time, and doctors' visits, and trips to the hospital.”

“With you,” Rose said. “You are always with me, Mommy.”

“Yes,” her mother said, her eyes gleaming as she smiled. “Always.”

“Rose,” Dr. Neill said now, his hand on her shoulder—almost as if he knew that Rose's heart had just started jumping and banging, going crazy inside her chest. She hadn't had any blue spells in a long time now—not since the last surgery. But right now she was getting breathless.

He picked her up. She put her arms around his neck, leaned her face against his cheek. It felt smooth but just a little scratchy, from his shave. He smelled like shaving cream and shampoo. His dark hair curled around his ears, and he had gray in his temples. She closed her eyes, letting him hold her, calming her down. Even though he didn't say anything, she felt better.

“Rose,” Maeve called, “will you come and help me and Clara plant these rosebushes?”

Just then, a car pulled into the cul-de-sac. Still in Dr. Neill's arms, Rose craned her neck to see who it was. The car was familiar, but she wasn't sure. A door opened, and a black dog jumped out. The dog was sweet and friendly, with a red collar and pink tongue hanging out—Rose recognized her as belonging to Patrick, the red-haired policeman.

“Flora, darling!” Maeve said, sounding shocked and happy just as the back door opened all the way, and Rose saw who was inside.

“Jessica!” she cried out, wriggling as Dr. Neill put her down. Rose tore up the stone steps.