Ella’s Dancing Dilemma (part 2)

I asked my younger brother J.J. if he’d seen them. “Not since last night when you and Betty were twirling all around the living room,” he said, gluing another piece onto his model Viking ship.

“Thanks,” I said and went to search the living room. Nothing there, except some cat toys we thought had been lost. I left them near our sleeping cat, then found mom, who suggested I look through my closet. “I have, about ten million times,” I said, throwing my hands in the air, close to tears.

“Well, where haven’t you looked Ellie?” mom asked calmly.

I tapped my forehead, thinking. “Betty’s room!” I exclaimed.

“You’d better hurry hon, it’s nearly time to go.” Mom pointed to her wristwatch. “We’ll leave when your dad gets home.”

I ran upstairs and knocked on my younger sister’s curiously closed bedroom door.

“Who is it?” Betty’s squeaky, six-year-old voice called.

“It’s me,” I said, hearing movement inside. “Can I come in?”

Three seconds later Betty called breathlessly, “Okay!”

I opened the door. Betty stood stiffly in front of her dresser. “Do you know where my ballet slippers are?” I asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Don’t have ’em,” she declared, staring at the carpet.

“Then what’s that?” I pointed to a pink strap hanging from a dresser drawer.

“Oh,” Betty’s eyes grew wide. Her chubby cheeks flushed.

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