I wasn’t worried about Ethan anymore.
I was worried about them.
Ethan reached inside.
The first object he removed was a small wooden hummingbird.
At least I think it was supposed to be a hummingbird.
One wing was larger than the other.
Its tail leaned sideways.
The beak was slightly crooked.
Ethan lifted it.
“This is Claire.”
The auditorium laughed.
My cheeks turned hot.
Ethan frowned at them.
“Not actually Claire.”
That made everyone laugh harder.
He pointed at the bird.
“When Claire was little, Dad called her Hummingbird because she never stopped moving.”
My throat tightened.
I’d forgotten that.
Dad used to say I entered every room like I had somewhere more important to be.
Homework.
Soccer practice.
Piano lessons.
Debate club.
Library.
Always moving.
Always preparing for the next thing.
Ethan continued.
“When I was little, I couldn’t say hummingbird.”
He looked at me.
“I called her Hum-Bee.”
