Rosie grabbed the broken wind-up toy and twisted its key. Click-clack, click-clack. Her brother sat on the rug and hummed a low sound.
She tried harder, but the toy wouldn't move. Her brother tapped his finger on the floor. Click-clack, click-clack.
Rosie set the screwdriver down and reached for the toy again. But her brother pulled it away and walked toward the garden door.
Rosie followed him, the screwdriver still in her hand. They stepped outside into the warm afternoon.
Her brother dropped to his knees in the grass and pointed at a line of ants marching over a twig. Rosie sat down beside him.
She set the screwdriver aside and picked up a shiny pebble, placing it near the ant trail. Her brother looked up and smiled.
The wind caught a dandelion seed and it floated past like a tiny parachute. Rosie watched the ants carry the pebble.
Her brother's humming grew softer. She didn't pick up the screwdriver. Instead, she placed her hand on the grass beside his and stayed there.