Three days until the Willow Creek Summer Festival, and the town square had reached a state of near-perfect readiness that made everyone’s chest swell with pride. The booths gleamed under fresh coats of paint, their bright colors popping against the evergreen backdrop. Strings of fairy lights formed glowing canopies overhead, ready to turn the entire square into a magical wonderland the moment dusk fell. The main stage stood tall with its banners fluttering gently, the kids’ zone was a vibrant playground of games, and the ring-toss poles were perfectly aligned after countless measurements. The air carried the sweet scent of Mrs. Delgado’s lemon bars, fresh sawdust, and the faint earthy dampness that followed every light rain shower.
We arrived mid-afternoon as the usual trio. Amina was pra
