They had discussed the possibility of Hammer attending the opening, and Lucy had been told that he might be there.
She'd said she wanted to decide for herself whether to speak with him.
Now the choice was in front of her.
Mara crouched beside her.
“Would you like to go somewhere else?”
Lucy shook her head.
“Not yet.”
“All right.”
The little girl watched Hammer.
He stood quietly talking with an older volunteer.
For several seconds, he didn't notice her.
Then he turned.
Their eyes met.
Hammer froze.
For a moment, he looked as startled as he had on the day she first pressed mud against his arm.
Then he gave a small nod.
He didn't approach.
Didn't wave dramatically.
Didn't call her name.
He simply acknowledged that he'd seen her.
Lucy looked toward her box.
She selected a yellow paper crane.
Then she stood.
Mara watched carefully.
“Lucy?”
The girl looked toward her aunt.
“Can I give him one?”
Mara's eyes filled.
She nodded.
“If you want to.”
Lucy took a slow breath.
Then walked toward Hammer.
Her steps were small.
Careful.
But determined.
When she stopped several feet away, Hammer lowered himself into a nearby chair so she wouldn't have to tilt her head so far to look at him.
“Hello, Lucy.”
She studied him.
“Hello.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she held out the yellow crane.
“I made this.”
Hammer looked at it.
His throat tightened.
“It's beautiful.”
Lucy smiled faintly.
“It's for you.”
He held out one enormous hand, palm upward.
She placed the bird in it.
Then looked toward his wrist.
His watch covered the small raven tattoo.
For a moment, her expression changed.
Hammer noticed.
He didn't move.
Lucy took a breath.
“Can I see the little bird?”
Hammer looked toward Mara.
The woman stood several yards away, watching with Emma.
Neither appeared to object, but Hammer remained careful.
He looked back at Lucy.
“Would you like me to move my watch?”
She nodded.
He slowly slid the watchband back.
The tiny raven appeared.
One wing longer than the other.
A narrow gap in the black ink.
Lucy stared.
For several seconds, she seemed uncertain.
Then she whispered.
“That's the bird.”
Hammer nodded.
“Yes.”
She looked toward his face.
“Why is its wing funny?”
He felt his eyes fill.
For a moment, he looked toward the yellow crane in his hand.