The rain came down hard. Raina pushed through it and squeezed between two brick buildings.
A brass bell jingled overhead. The shopkeeper slid a plain blue book across the counter without a word.
Raina opened the book. Every page flared gold for just one breath before settling.
The first picture showed a girl standing alone at the edge of a playground. Raina traced the girl's scuffed shoes.
The page shifted. The girl held a crumpled drawing, tears smudging the crayon.
The next page showed her trying to speak, but no sound came out. Raina pressed her palm flat against the paper. "That's me," she whispered.
The final page rippled and rose from the book. It folded itself into the shape of Raina.
The paper Raina held her drawing up high. Other children in the picture turned and reached for her.
Raina's breath fogged the page. The paper bird fluttered once against her nose.
Raina closed the book. She walked back out between the two buildings into the still-falling rain.
She held the blue book against her chest and stepped into a puddle.
Water splashed her knees. Raina laughed.