“That’s my sister’s name!” July says, kicking her feet against the seat and pulling on her seat belt. It sags around her. I’m afraid she’s going to slip through the belt and fall on the floor. I wish I had a car seat for her. And a jacket and a snack. I wish she had a better father.

“I know,” I say, taking a deep, slow breath. “I think I’m your sister.” I back out of Mrs. Ivory’s driveway so I can return July to the church.

July laughs like I told her a joke. “Why you have a big fat belly?” she asks.

“That’s your nephew.”

July laughs again. I watch her in the rearview mirror. She’s beautiful.

“You’re going to be an aunt,” I say, just so I can hear her talk more. She’s really smart, I think. I don’t know very much about these things yet, but for a kid so little it seems like she has a lot of words and she says them pretty well. “What do you think about being an aunt?”

“Ewww!” She wrinkles up her nose. “An ant bited my finger in the sandbox.” She holds up her hand to show me which one. It’s her middle finger and it’s really funny, this pretty little girl in her frilly dress, sitting on the back seat giving me the finger. I try hard not to laugh. I don’t want her to learn bad things. “I squished it,” she shrieks, pinching her fingers together to show me how.

When we get to the church, Irene is standing in the street. The church doors are still closed and no one else is around. It’s just Irene, right in the middle of the road, red faced, crying.

I park in the same spot, get out, and open the door to help July with her seat belt.

“Oh my god!” Irene says, running over, crouching to hug July, lifting her out of the car. “Oh my god! April!” She looks up at me. Her eyes are so puffy. I almost feel bad for her.

“What is wrong with you?” I say. “Leaving her alone with Mrs. Ivory! She doesn’t even know who anyone is anymore.”

“I didn’t!” Irene says, sobbing and hugging July to her chest. “She was with my cousin at the back of the church and then she wasn’t anymore and I don’t— I—” She stops talking and just falls apart. Grabs at July like she’s making sure all her parts are still there. All four limbs, every finger, both ears.

July is shell-shocked. She reaches for her mom’s barrette and tries to pull it out of her hair. Irene just lets her.

“Thank you for bringing her back,” Irene says.