Leo dragged his red backpack into the living room. The house was very quiet.
He unzipped it. A baseball. A smooth gray stone. A drawing of two kids catching a butterfly.
He rolled the stone between his fingers. The house was too quiet.
At the park, Leo pushed himself on a swing. A girl in bright yellow sneakers sat on the next one.
"I'm Maya," she said. Leo looked at his shoes. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
Maya pointed at the baseball poking out of Leo's backpack pocket. "Can I see that?"
Leo pulled out the ball and held it out. Maya tossed it back. It bounced once. Twice. Back to him.
Leo threw higher. Maya threw back even higher. Up and up they went.
Leo threw too hard. The ball sailed over the fence and landed with a soft plop in a bush.
Maya gasped. Leo gasped. Then Maya giggled. Leo giggled too.
Maya reached into the bush and pulled the ball free. A butterfly fluttered down and landed on Leo's shoulder.
He froze. It stayed. It stayed. It stayed.