Nemi ran from the bridge before he knew he had lost sight of his aunt. The crowd had carried him as far as the high trail, where the road divided around a stone marker. He stopped at the turn, looking back toward the bridge.
He had been holding the end of a blanket, but someone had pulled it from his hand when the carts moved. He stared at the empty place beside him and then at the people walking west. The crowd kept passing. He could not see Sera’s gray scarf among the coats and bundles.
“Sera!” he called.
No one answered over the wheels and shouted directions. He took one step back toward the bridge and saw the red flash of a blade on the stones. The child froze. His legs would not move, and the shoulder of his coat shook as he tried not to cry.
Han caught him before he stepped onto the lower road. “What’s your name?”
“Nemi.”
“Where is your aunt?”
“Sera. She was behind me.”
