Five days until the Willow Creek Summer Festival, and the town square had reached that magical tipping point where it looked almost ready for its big moment. The booths gleamed with fresh paint, the fairy lights created soft glowing canopies overhead, and the main stage stood proud with its new banners fluttering gently in the breeze. The kids’ zone was a riot of color, the fishing pond fully assembled, and the ring-toss game looked perfectly aligned thanks to endless measurements.
We arrived mid-afternoon as the usual trio. Amina was buzzing with last-minute ideas for the photo booth, Lena already waiting for her at the station. Mrs. Delgado spotted us and waved her clipboard enthusiastically.
“Marvelous timing! Elias, the stage needs one final sound check. Amina, Lena is calling for yo
