One day until the final night of the Willow Creek Summer Festival, and the town square buzzed with last-minute energy. Cleanup crews had restored some order after opening night, but the fairy lights still twinkled in the daylight, and vendors were setting up fresh stock. The air smelled of popcorn, sugar, and damp grass from another overnight rain shower.
Amina, Elias, and I arrived together again, this time helping with minor repairs and restocking games. Amina was in full festival mode, wearing a bright top and chatting animatedly with Lena about the evening’s band lineup.
“Tonight’s going to be even better,” Amina said, linking her arm with mine. “The band from Port Angeles is playing, and Mrs. Delgado promised fireworks at closing. You have to dance with me this time, Z. No hiding on
