Lavinia didn’t see Constable Macbeth approaching; she was focused on the music. She’d remembered where she’d heard it before. Before the accident, she used to dance. Ballet and jazz, mostly, but she had some friends in the Stratford Steppers and probably would have joined eventually. She danced to this song, way back in high school, and had gotten in a huge argument with her instructor about the choreography. She was surprised she could actually still remember what she wanted to change. She’d almost forgotten about it entirely.

She only jumped a little when he spoke. She wasn’t jumpy as a rule, but the adrenaline still poured into her veins and made her blurt “It’s okay!” before she even really registered what he’d said. It wasn’t a big deal, what he’d said—her dad always needed a hand, and said so—but something about the entire situation made her gut twist and her mood took a hit.

It really was okay, though. The constable hadn’t meant any harm. Macbeth was a good man—he’d been kind upon her and her dad’s return to Stratford, and Lavinia had even met Mrs. Macbeth once. Her dad probably considered him a friend; though she wasn’t sure to what extent the feeling was reciprocated. “Hi, Constable Macbeth. I’m fine, just waiting for my brother to show up. He’s bringing Lukie for the fireworks…” A little bit too much information. She took a breath. “How are you? Enjoying the festival?”

She was worried she might have made him worry. She really was fine. She just needed to stay sharp was all. She should thank him for that, at least—though Stratford was no London, she could still get overwhelmed and distracted, and then where would she be?