“Poppies,” I say, smiling when I see the look on her face. “I’ve never seen such a bright flower,” she blinks. “They’re orange and red and everywhere.” I can’t seem to tear my eyes from her. “So? What do you think?” She glances back at me, her smile worrisome. “I think you’re slowing me down.” With the words barely out of her mouth, she turns and bounds toward the field. I manage to start running before the chain has the chance to try to yank me off my feet. I watch her spread out her arms to embrace the wind as her boots find the edge of the field. I haven’t seen her this carefree since the
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