Farrow draws down the scarf, his lips parted in a shocked O, and Ripley lets out a soft, uncertain laugh. So Farrow brings the scarf back up, then down. His lips are playfully downturned. Ripley giggles more, entranced. He does the peekaboo move again, only he gasps into a cheek-to-cheek, breathtaking smile. Ripley wiggles excitedly in my arms and looks up at me like, did you see that? I saw him. I’ve seen him. My lungs flood. Don’t turn into a maple tree. Do not turn into a goddamn maple tree.
