In fact, she hasn’t thought about Malcolm once since they entered the Barn Hall. A new record. Being with Fox made her feel less sad—the wildfire reduced to a smolder. Spending time with him and these adorable animals distracted her in just the way she needed.

“So.” Fox stands next to her, leaning against the edge of the cage. “You want me in your pictures?”

“Fine. Yes.” Joy gives in, pretending to be exasperated. “Please?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

Joy positions him next to her with Umji in the background. She takes a few pictures and each one makes her frown harder than the last. “So, idea. What if you smiled?”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t hmm me. See, look.” She shows him her screen, swiping through the pictures. “Here we are. Beautiful, photogenic, but we look like we’re having a good time, not a great time. Umji? Adorable. Me? Excited ball of sunshine. You? Possibly constipated.”

This earns her a spontaneous snicker. Fox tries to turn away but isn’t quick enough.

“That look! Right there! That smile!” Joy matches his movements to face him. “Imagine I said something funny before every shot. That’s all we need.”

They try a few more test photos that still don’t pan out. Joy gives up and changes course. “Videos,” she says.

“What?”

She poses them for each take, makes sure they’re in frame with a furry guest star behind them, hits record, and tells him awful knock-knock jokes she stole from her dad. It works. By the end of their time in the Barn Hall, she’s the proud owner of five videos, actual photographic evidence, proving that Fox’s smile exists.

“Let’s do one more,” he says. “I have one for you.”

Joy chooses a beautiful pair of brown dwarf rabbits, Mable and Dipper, saying hello before standing in front of them. “Ready?” She positions her phone.

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Aardvark.”

She eyes him. “Aardvark who?”

He says, “Aardvark a million miles to see you smile.”

“Oh my god.”

After washing their hands and disinfecting their phones, they follow the signs directing them to the adjacent area, where the rest of the animals are. It isn’t the kind of small pen you’d see at a county fair or at a tiny tots thing for elementary school kids. This is a wildlife reserve for barnyard animals. They walk into a giant field full of small animals running around and having the time of their lives. The worker gives them a few bags of treats—the animals can all eat the same thing and are used to it. A small flock heads straight for them as soon as they clear the gate.