She looks so defeated, standing at the corner waiting for the light to change. Her son tugs on her sleeve, asking “mum, what’s wrong?” She looks down at him, wipes her nose, and shakes her head as if to say nothing. The light changes, and they’re pushed along by the crowd. He’s talking to her, but she can’t help but let his voice fade into the chaos around them. He let’s go of her hand, suddenly dashing off. He presses his hands and face to the glass window of a store. She walks up behind him, glancing back into the crowd. “Can we go in?” he asks. “Sure,” she replies without looking at him. He pushes open the door to the bookstore. She follows him in, and heads to her favorite section. He can see them through the window. She traces the spines of all the books, stopping at the same book every time. She always buys a copy whenever she finds one. It’s all she has left of him. He’s always known about this little secret of hers. And he smiles, because he knows that she’s going to be alright.