I glanced at Harry, who was paying for the kite before I could reach for my wallet.
"It's true," he said, catching my look. "In some cultures, anyway."
I didn't argue about the payment. Didn't have the energy for that particular dance.
We carried the kite to the open field, Daisy kept chattering the whole way about butterflies she'd seen, butterflies she wanted to see, a butterfly garden her uncle had promised to take her to someday.
Her warm voice did nothing but kept me smiling as well.
_____________
I'd flown plenty of kites before.
When Liora was younger, we used to come to parks like this all the time. I'd taught her how to read the wind, how to hold the string, how to run at just the right moment to catch the lift. She'd laughed every time the kite soared, her little face tilt
