Farisha sprinted across the backyard in her yellow rain boots — thump, thump, thump — while Inshirah tiptoed behind her, careful not to step on the grass.
Inshirah watched her sister leap over every puddle like a frog. Farisha stopped dead and grinned, daring her to keep up.
They reached the old oak tree and Farisha leaped onto the swing, pumping her legs until she soared high into the air.
Inshirah sat beneath the tree and counted the petals on a fallen flower, one by one. Farisha swung down and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the slide.
But Inshirah shook her head and pointed to a line of ants marching across the wooden planks. Farisha sighed and let go.
A sudden summer storm rolled in. The backyard flooded with shallow golden puddles.
Farisha stomped through the water with wild joy, splashing Inshirah's flower petal collection right into the mud.
Inshirah's face crumpled and she dropped to her knees, scooping the soggy petals into her palms. Farisha froze, her boot hovering above a puddle, and saw her sister's wet cheek glisten.
Farisha knelt beside Inshirah and gently placed a dry leaf under her sister's hands. 'We can make a new map,' she said.
Together they pressed the rescued petals and leaves onto the flat stone beside the oak. Inshirah smiled and reached for Farisha's muddy hand.
They sat side by side as the rain drummed a steady rhythm on the roof above them.
The next morning, the backyard sparkled with wet green light. Farisha pointed to a rainbow over the fence while Inshirah held up a dandelion clock untouched on the windowsill. They stood close, shoulders touching, and blew their dandelion seeds into the warm breeze together.