"Okay, now you just...slide! Whee!" Annelise hollered in laughter, striding Tiana alongside her, urging Deborah to join in as well. They all waltz on the ice, rushing past others, and Tiana cackled little giggles. 
	"Fun, huh?!" 
	"Y-Yeah!" 
They enjoyed themselves some more, but then tragedy struck, Tiana turning into herself, coughing out a nasty mess. Annelise sighed, guiding all three of them back off the rink.
	"Rest for a little bit, Ti. M'kay?"
	"Ee–kay," Tiana managed to utter, trying to shove down her coughs, but her poor little body gave in sooner or later. She sat on the wooden bench, and Annelise untied her skating shoes, aiming the blades away from her. 
	"Momma, I hurt," she complained, and Deborah sobbed. "I know, baby-doll, I know," she whimpered, hugging her. 
	"Hey, let me go find her something to drink," Deborah said, patting Annelise. "Watch her for a sec." Annelise dried the slobber from Tiana's mouth with a kleenex napkin.
	"Okay, don't be long."
	"I won't."
	Deborah wandered, her eyes coming across every face. Many people were at the skating rink today, mostly families with their children. Unbroken families, happy and free children. Not mourning mother's and father's, traumatized kids, and bundles of bones.
	One little boy bumped into her thigh, and he squawked when his forehead wacked into her knee.
	"Yaghh!" he squalled, and he almost tripped on the ice, but she stood him up. He was a little blonde boy, about a few years younger than Tiana. He wore a heavy puff-jacket, beanie, ear-muffs, the usual on one's body inside Samridge Pines during December.
	"Sorry ma'am!" the boy apologized. Despite his age, he had manners and a very respectful tone behind his words. He smiled, his baby teeth revealed–such tiny teeth–and his blue eyes were emphasized in the icy atmosphere. Snot rolled down his cupid's bow, though, and Deborah wanted to laugh. Just like Tiana, the boy was.
	"Ah, hold on there," Deborah said, stopping him from moving on. He stood still, his legs weakly standing on the blades structuring a foundation for his balance. She pulled a kleenex, one she was saving for Tiana, out of her pocket, and wiped the boy's nose.
	"Gotta clean that off, alright?" she laughed, and the boy giggled. 
"Thank ya miss!"
"You are very welcome!" He began to depart, but then the matter of his parents provoked her thinking. Wouldn't his parents come to get him from a stranger by now?
"Wait," she halted the boy, and he grumbled.
 "Yes, ma'am?"
"Where are your parents?"
"At work!" How was he here? With grandparents maybe?
"Who are you here with?" The boy, with the green, crochet-made mitten on his hand, pointed towards
someone beyond the crowd of people. 
	"Mrs. Wilson! She right over der!" Deborah's heart fluctuated. Mrs. Wilson?! As in Dr. Robert Wilson's wife? Perhaps there was a different Mrs. Wilson, it couldn't possibly be the same woman! Didn't she live alone now? All her sons were grown adult men? 
	The boy led Deborah to her, zipping by people and racing past other reckless children, and soon, exiting the busy traffic of bystanders, a beautiful blonde woman shined underneath the lights strung up above her head.