“I understand that, but you should have asked. You do not run off in a crowd of people. What if I couldn’t find you?” She thinks about scaring the shit out of her with kidnapper stories or missing child statistics.

Savi shrugs. “You found me, didn’t you?” She turns back to the cellos. “I want a new cello.”

That’s it. Crystal grabs Savi’s elbow, ignoring the owner’s inquisitive stare, and steers her toward the open door and onto the sidewalk. “Listen to me, young lady.” She shakes her arm. “I am still your mother and there are rules to follow. Do you understand me? I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but you are not allowed to act this way.”

Savi peers at her shoes, and Crystal gives her another tentative shake.

“Did you hear me?”

Her head lifts and tears threaten to spill. “I just want to feel normal.” The words are tiny, but the effect is immediate.

Crystal releases her arm. The anger evaporates. She gathers her daughter into her arms. “Oh, sweetie. I know.” The festival crescendos, people sidestepping around them. “I know you do,” she murmurs in Savi’s hair. She’s been in such a rush to feel better herself that she didn’t realize she might be rushing Savi too. Of course her daughter is going to act out. Of course she’s going to be upset. It’s been months since the accident, not years.

“Do you want to go home?” She holds her daughter at arm’s length.

Savi swipes a hand over her nose and shakes her head. “Can we stay?”

“Of course.” She looks around at all the booths and brightly decorated tables. She spots a short line for face painting. Savi sees it at the same time.

A peace offering. “Face painting?” When Savi was little, she and Paul used to wait in endless lines to get Savi’s face painted. After they’d shell out the money, Savi would sweat or wipe all the makeup off in less time than it had taken for the artist to paint it. It was their running joke every time they went to a carnival or festival. Avoid the face painting station! They’d each distract Savi so she’d never see the booths. Suddenly, the need for Paul wedges into her heart. She hasn’t thought about them in happier times in so long. It’s always him after he changed, him after he betrayed her, him after he died.

Crystal extends her hand and Savi takes it to walk toward the booth. On the way, she makes some mental notes to bring up at her next session with Dr. Gibbons.

“Isn’t that Ms. Rebecca?” Savi sniffs and points across the street at a woman rushing away.

Crystal lifts her sunglasses and squints. “I don’t think so.” The woman disappears from sight.