Four days until the Willow Creek Summer Festival, and the town square had transformed into something that felt almost enchanted. The booths stood tall and proud with their fresh coats of paint catching the late afternoon light. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed overhead like a canopy of stars, ready to glow the moment the sun dipped low. The main stage was fully rigged with banners fluttering gently in the breeze, and the kids’ zone had become a vibrant wonderland of games and colors. The air carried the sweet scent of Mrs. Delgado’s lemon bars, fresh sawdust, and the ever-present damp earth from another light rain that had passed through earlier.
We arrived together as usual — Amina chatting excitedly about her final signage tweaks, Elias carrying a heavy toolbox, and me with my sketc
