“Welcome to the Annual Yarrow Bourbon Festival!” Cheers rang out across the grounds as people raised their plastic cups. “For those of you who are attending for the first time, the fireflies come out in droves this time of year. Tomorrow morning, the high school marching band will kick off our firefly parade.”

On cue, two elementary-school children—a white boy and a Black girl—ran across the stage in homemade firefly costumes, beaming as people erupted in applause. Once they’d made it to the other side, the mayor held up a hand. Sylvia ascended the steps while Nate took up a spot next to the old still. River crossed to a large whiskey barrel, drill in hand.

“She’s letting River tap the barrel?” Addison whispered, just loud enough for Kaden to hear.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not hard.”

She laughed, and her look of gratitude set something in him at ease.

Sylvia held out her arms. Her gauzy, goldenrod-yellow sundress fluttered in the breeze.

“Hello, Yarrow!” she called. “It’s an honor to kick off another festival! Before we begin, let’s give a round of applause for the Haywoods, who made the bourbon you drink today possible.”

She was laying it on thick, Kaden thought.

Once the applause died down, Sylvia said, “For those of you visiting, we start things off by tapping our latest batch of bourbon.” She gestured to the barrel on the far side of the stage. “For the rest of you, you know what to do.”

All across the crowd, people pulled slips of paper from their pockets. “Today, we say goodbye to what we want to leave behind,” Sylvia said. She gave them a few moments to read what they’d penned before they handed over the written memories to the person beside them—the one they’d entrusted with their darkest moment of the year, should they ever need it back.

“Most of you know our master distiller, my youngest son, Nate. With us today we also have our newest apprentice, River Baker.”

River held the drill up over his head in a wave. His family erupted in applause. Casey Baker put two fingers between his lips and whistled, while Susheila snapped a photo with her phone.

Harper shouted, “That’s my brother!”

Addison sank deeper into the seat next to Kaden.

Sylvia pulled the mic from the stand and crossed over toward River as he pressed the drill bit to the wood. Once he’d tapped the barrel, she offered him her glass, and he filled it. He held it under his nose.

Kaden mouthed, Smells like a good one, at the same time that River spoke the words into the mic. The crowd lost it.

Sylvia held up her glass. A wave of arms rose across the grounds, clear plastic glinting in the sun. Fireflies descended on the lawn, their flashing only just visible in the midday sun.