Netanel scrunched up the bag and threw it on the floor. It was too quiet in the house without Sari running around and Ima in the kitchen or folding laundry in the living room. The only sound was Granny’s knitting needles clicking back and forth. Click clack. Click clack. And Granny murmuring under her breath every now and then. It sounded like: Knit one two three. Pearl one. Knit one two three four. Pearl one. “I don’t see any pearls in your knitting ” Netanel said.