Jimi laughed, thrilled to have a day that was entirely his.

“And this pie?” Flávia pointed to the one I had made the night before, with the fillings Jimi had requested, doing my best to make it as beautiful as the photo he had shown me.

“That’s for the birthday song,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush at having to refuse her a slice right then.

“Then I’ll wait,” Flávia smiled. “It’s rude to steal sweets before the song.” She winked.

Simone appeared hand in hand with Aster, ...