As we step beyond the trees and back into the more open paths of Willowglen, the smell of something warm and sweet hits me.
Theo pauses mid-step. "Is that sesame buns?"
I sniff the air, instantly alert. "And grilled rice cakes," I say, eyes scanning. "It's spring snack season. The food carts are back."
Just off the main path, a small line of vendors has set up for the day. Their colorful umbrellas flap gently in the breeze, and the tables are laid out with baskets of freshly steamed buns, skewers glistening with glaze, and little paper trays of sweet rice puffs dusted in soy powder. The kind of food that sticks to your fingers and lingers in your memory.
I glance at Theo. "We have been sitting for, what, three hours? I'm hungry. Are you?"
He shrugs, but I already see the spark of interest in his eyes. "I wouldn't say no."
