Lila took charge of decorations. She draped fairy lights across the old oak, fashioned paper lanterns from recycled jars, and set up a makeshift “story stage” using a repurposed wooden pallet. She even convinced Sir Reginald the garden gnome to wear a tiny top hat—because, as she explained, “every good story needs a distinguished narrator.”
Lila shrugged, crumbs scattering like tiny confetti. “I was just… making sure we weren’t the ones who left a hole in the story. The quilt’s got a story, right? So do we.” kristen scott brattysis