Chapter 130

• The humid summer air, carrying hints of fresh water and wildflowers, had always been my favorite. It was especially fragrant here, in the field of golden grass I frequented. Even as I sat on the thick quilt I had brought along, I yearned for the feel of the grass beneath my feet. Rifling through my bag, I retrieved a cherry-almond croissant from my favorite bakery, still thriving under new management by a spirited girl named Scarlett, whose pastry experiments yielded delightful results.
• This place had once been a secret, but as I watched children laugh and play, I couldn't regret sharing it with them. It held some of the purest happiness I had ever known, a repository of countless cherished memories.
• Six children, three boys and three girls, darted through the grass with wide grins. Some were missing baby teeth, others had scraped knees and dirt-covered clothes. The boys were boisterous and energetic, easily matched by the adventurous spirit of the girls.