It had dragged Ethan into another family’s emergency and forced him to remember that vulnerability is not only the preface to pain. It is also the preface to interdependence. People save one another in increments. Dogs too, apparently.
Hope ran up then, leaves caught in her dark hair, and threw herself against his knees.
“Uncle Ethan,” she declared—because somewhere along the years that title had attached itself and stayed—“Ellie says I can’t jump in the big leaf pile headfirst.” Ethan looked over Hope’s shoulder at Ellie, who was trying and failing to appear patient. Then he glanced down at Ranger, who had lifted one ear without opening his eyes.
“Your sister is very smart,” Ethan said.
Hope laughed. “She’s not my sister.”
Ellie called from the path, “You basically are!”
Hope thought this over with theatrical seriousness. “Okay,” she shouted back. “Half sister. Not by blood. By leaves!”
Everyone laughed, even Chloe, who had just walked up carrying a thermos and heard only the end of it.
By leaves.