Junie gasped.
Then she laughed so brightly that the tension around Pump Seven cracked like glass. A man near the soda machines smiled despite himself. A woman by a minivan covered her mouth. Even Claire felt her panic stumble.
Junie threw her arms around Everett’s leg.
“You ARE a bear!”
Claire rushed forward. “I’m so sorry. She never does this. She never runs up to strangers.”
Everett’s tattooed hand hovered near Junie’s back, not touching, just protecting.
“Ma’am,” he said quietly, “please don’t apologize.”
He looked down at Junie, and his eyes shone.
“She asked me if I was a bear.”
His voice broke.
“**My daughter used to say the exact same thing before she died.**”
Claire felt the world drop from beneath her feet.
Junie loosened her grip just enough to look up at him. “Your little girl?”