Chapter 86

Everything felt light, peaceful—until a sharp cry cut through the air. “Lily!” I turned just in time to see another child bump into her. Lily stumbled back, her little arms flailing before she landed hard on the rubber padding with a dull thud. She didn’t cry. Not at first. But Susan’s voice exploded across the playground. “Hey! You! Watch where you’re going!” The boy who’d bumped into Lily—a freckled kid, maybe seven or eight—stood frozen. His face drained of color as Susan marched toward him. “You don’t just shove people like that!” she yelled. “What’s wrong with you? Are you blind?” “Excuse me?” said a woman wearing a Playground Attendant badge, hurrying over. “Ma’am, please calm down. What happened here?” “That boy pushed my daughter!” Susan said, gesturing wildly. “She hit the ground hard! That’s not okay!” Another attendant, younger, with a clipboard in hand, approached us. “Is the little girl alright? Who’s her parent?” Lily had quietly gotten up and run to me, clinging tightly