When Tate opened her eyes, the milk truck was parked in a different village, and Etienne was nowhere to be seen. She rose from the red sweater, jumped out of the truck and stretched her legs. Looking around her, Tate had a feeling that she'd been here before. "Goodness," she said to herself, "here I am in Miel-sur-la-Patte! I am a long way from home." The more she thought about this, the more she wished that she were back in Bric-à-Brac with Pierre and Jacqueline. "Pierre will be baking for the holiday soon. Last year I helped butter the cookie sheets, although I have to admit it got a little messy. Mostly, I warn him when the cookies are about to burn."
At that moment, Tate knew it was time to head for home. She didn't know if Pierre would be glad to see her after all the commotion she had caused, but the farm in Bric-à-Brac was where she belonged. She thought there was a railway station in Miel-sur-la-Patte, and she set out to find it straight away.