I remember it so clearly. It's the last memory I have of her, and is still as vivid as ever. I remember how hard it rained that day. June had been playing happily out in the rain, searching for frogs and fish. I knew she wouldn't find fish, of course, but I didn't bother telling her that. As far as she was concerned, where the water was, there the fish must be also.

She splashed happily around in the puddles, beckoning Kyle and I to join her, but I didn't oblige. I was never a fan of being wet. As such, I instead sat by the window and watched her carefully, still not willing to let her out of my sight. She continued to play, hopping and running around. Even if I wasn't out there with her, It was fun just to watch.

Suddenly, though, she stopped. She bent over and seemed to pick something up in her hands before running toward the house, hands cupped.

At first, I thought it must have just been a frog, but her expression was no longer blissful, but filled with concern. Realizing something was wrong, I hurried to the door and opened it to greet her.

As I did, she extended her hands toward me. "Look, Evan, it's so cold and wet. I think it's hurt!" she said as she opened her hands slightly to reveal the critter she had found. I couldn't help but give an alarmed gasp as she did.

It was a mouse, curled up and shivering. However, on its back was a pair of wings from a small bird. One of them seemed to be broken and twisted, and both were fastened to it by what looked like stitches of a red thread.

"What type of mousy is it?" she asked me, eyes wide. "Can you help it?"

I just shook my head. "June... mice don't have wings. I don't know what that is, but put it back outside." My heart was beating and my head was spinning. She was too young to realize how strange it was, but I wasn't.

She shook her head in response. "No!" she said stubbornly. "It's hurt, Evan! We have to help it!"

"Then I'll get rid of it myself," I said, reaching for the creature.

As I did, she yanked her hands away. "No!" she cried again, this time louder. The mouse, seemingly woken up by this outburst, suddenly shot its head up, leaping off her hands and running into the rain.

June turned to me, her expression furious and tears in her eyes. "I hate you, Evan!" she declared before running into the rain after the small creature.

I knew she didn't mean it. She could be stubborn, and when she didn't get her way, that was the choice phrase. Mom and dad hadn't yet helped her to understand just how heavy a meaning it carried. I knew that, but it still hurt.

I thought the mouse would get away, she'd get discouraged, and then would come running back in no time. But as I watched, her figure just got smaller and smaller before vanishing into the rainy haze altogether.

I realized my mistake. She wasn't coming back after all. That strange, pitiful creature had captured her attention, and she wasn't letting it go.

I realized, in that moment, someone had to go after her. I called out for Mom, only to realize that she and Dad had both gone out to get food for dinner. So instead, I called out for Kyle. He was my big brother, so if nothing else, he'd know what to do, right?

Once I filled him in on the situation, we went out and searched. We searched. And searched. And searched some more. We called out her name. Screamed. Cried. Begged. Apologized. I lost track of how many times I said "I'm sorry." But she was nowhere to be found.

I was beginning to suspect the worst: that she'd left our property without thinking. I shared the possibility with Kyle, and while he had the same concern, we both knew that we weren't allowed outside of the property.

What if we'd been wrong? What if she was just hiding somewhere we hadn't checked yet? If Mom and Dad knew we'd left the property, we were dead meat. But what if they knew it was to look for our sister?

Paralyzed by the choice, we both stood there in the rain. Just two clueless boys, completely helpless to fix the situation at hand.

We never saw our sister again.