“No, Karen,” Sam says, slowly standing.  “I need to show her.  It’s the only way she’ll understand.”

“But tell her something quick first before she goes running off without giving us a chance to explain.”

Sam folds his hands together.  “We’re not Sam and Judy Engels,” he says.  “We’re Dean and Karen Larson.  Our kids really are Bud and Cindy, but two years ago we had three.  A daughter.  Samantha.”