I checked the clock. The numbers glowed green: 9:30. My sisters were all asleep, but I was still tossing and turning. Something felt off. I pictured my heart as a puzzle, the kind with a frame and pieces that simply matched up, not interlocked. A piece was missing. I wasn't quite sure what it all meant, but I knew I needed to talk to my dad. I was a little apprehensive as I walked down the hallway to the stairs out of my grandparents' basement. A few weeks earlier I had been unable to sleep, frustrated and saddened and confused by the family situation. Why would God put my mom in the hospital with heart failure, then again with cancer? Why would He make my brother be born premature? Why did my dad have to spend so much time away from us, especially since Mommy wasn't around? Daddy had told me about Job, and I had been able sleep a little better. Now, though, I was supposed to be in bed. It was late, and Daddy was surely busy. But I had to talk to him. I knew t