The laughter was nearly constant as Maeve and I navigated the crowded paths of Wonderland Heights.
The park seemed endless, filled with candy-colored stalls, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, and the mixed sounds of laughter and thrilling screams from rides nearby.
Maeve was my unofficial tour guide, leading us with confidence that seemed like she'd been here a dozen times.
"Okay," she said, stopping suddenly. "I have an idea."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to make me excited or nervous?"
"Both, preferably," she replied with a mischievous smirk. "Come on, trust me."
Trusting Maeve was a new adventure all its own, but today felt different—lighter, more carefree than anything I'd felt in a long time.
So, I followed her, weaving through clusters of people and past a dizzying array of rides and games until we reached a carnival stand with oversized mallets and a high striker game.
