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bangles in front of you. But before your fingers could close over them, he jerked them away. “Catch!” He launched one bangle over your head, and as you slowly raised your hands to try to catch it, he sent the other flying so fast, it struck you before tinkling to the floor. You squeaked like a trapped mouse. He laughed. How dare he think it was funny to trick you. How dare he mock your trust. When he tossed a package in my direction, I didn’t even try to catch it. I crossed my arms and watched it land on the floor. “How bad both our girls are at catching!” Amma’s voice was high-pitched and tense as a taut string. “Stupid,” he said. “One with slow hands, and the other with a slow brain.” “We’re not stupid!” I picked up my package and flung it at him. Nostrils flaring, he slapped me. “Please,” Amma begged. “Not the children.” You leaped and thrust your doll between me and Appa. He kicked out at you. At you. Furious, I lunged at him. You joined in, and the two of us barreled into him together. He swayed and fell backward, but not before he struck your face. Amma caught him, instead of letting him crack his head on the floor. 9