“One day, though, as Corn-Husk Doll sat gazing at her face in the water, those waters were rippled by the wind. And then, just like that, her face disappeared from her head. Ever since then, no corn-husk doll has had a face. And so we tell all our little girls that story to remind them to not be vain and boast about their good looks.”

Ahyokah climbs into my lap and gives me a hug.

“That was such a good story,” she says. “You are just as good as Father at telling stories.”

Despite my desire to have nothing to do with this little sister I’ve just met, it seems that all I have done is make her like me more. Plus I am finding it harder to dislike her. I can’t help but feel some pride about what she said—that I am like my father in some way. It actually feels pleasant to have her sitting in my lap like this with her head leaning back against my chest. I’m not sure I like the way it is making me feel protective of her. I cannot think of what to do or say. I look over at the three corn-husk dolls.

I carefully disentangle myself from her arms.

“Can you tell me about your friends?”

“Oh yes!” Ahyokah says, hopping out of my lap like a little squirrel leaping down from a stone. She gathers up the three dolls and brings them back to me.

“They are my best friends, and they are always happy to see me. And that is good because the other girls of my age do not want to play with me.”

For a moment, a sad look starts to come over her happy face—like a cloud moving in front of the sun. I suddenly realize that whatever suspicion people might have about me visiting my father, it must be much worse for Ahyokah, who is living in the same house with him. But that sad look passes quickly and her eager smile comes right back again.

“They are sisters, you know. That is why they all look alike. This one is Meli,” Ahyokah says, handing me the first doll. “She is pleased to see you.”

“Osiyo, Meli.”

“And this is Madi and this is Losi.”

“Osiyo, osiyo,” I say.

Ahyokah looks pleased.

“How do you know who is who?” I ask.

“It is easy,” Ahyokah says. “Meli has the blue sash, Madi has the red sash, and Losi has the white sash.”

Ahyokah is so serious that I cannot resist teasing her. “But what if their sashes fell off? How could you tell which one was which? After all, you said they are sisters and all look alike.”

Ahyokah giggles. “Silly,” she says, “I can always tell them apart.”

She takes the doll she called Losi from my hand and turns her around.

“See!”