\"DANCING QUEEN，\" Sara Linton mumbled with the music as she made
her way around the skating rink. \"Young and sweet， only seventeen.\"
She heard a furious clicking of wheels to her left and turned just in
time to catch a small child before he crashed into her.
\"Justin?\" she asked， recognizing the seven year old. She held him up
by the back of his shirt as his ankles wobbled over his in-line skates.
\"Hey， Dr. Linton，\" Justin managed around gasps for breath. His hel-
met was too big for his head， and he pushed it back several times as he
tried to look up at her.
Sara returned his smile， trying not to laugh. \"Hello， Justin.\"
\"I guess you like this music， huh? My morn likes it， too.\" He stared at
her openly， his lips slightly parted. Like most of Sara s patients， Justin
seemed a bit shocked to see her outside of the clinic. Sometimes she won-
dered if they thought she lived in the basement there， waiting for them to
get colds or fevers so she could see them.
\"Anyway，\" Justin pushed back his helmet again， knocking himself in
the nose with his elbow pad. \"I saw you singing it.\"
\"Here，\" Sara offered， leaning down to adjust the chin strap. The music
in the rink was so loud that Sara could feel the bass vibrating through the
plastic buckle as she tightened it under l~is cir.
\"Thanks，\" Justin yelled， then for some reib~on he put both his hands on
top of the helmet， as if to rest them. The motion threw him off balance，
and he stumbled， clamping on to Sara s leg.
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