Where did you learn this?” Helen gasped.

Sophie didn’t glance up. “From Isla,” she murmured. “She came in my dream last night. She said her father would crash and I’d have to help.”

The man’s name, as they later learned, was Jonas “Grizzly” Keller. A biker on his way home from a memorial ride, he had been forced off the road by a pickup truck. He had already lost more blood than most men could survive.

Yet Sophie’s small hands held him to life. She began singing softly under her breath, a lullaby Helen had never heard. Her sequined dress grew dark with crimson, but still she pressed on.

When the paramedics arrived, sirens wailing, a small crowd had already gathered above the ridge. A medic crouched beside Sophie.

“Sweetheart, let us take over,” he said gently.

But Sophie shook her head fiercely. “Not until his brothers get here. Isla promised.”