The county fairgrounds in Willow Creek always felt overwhelming to Lily Parker — noisy, sticky, and far too sprawling for someone as quiet and withdrawn as she was.
The summer heat clung to everything, turning the gravel paths into shimmering sheets of warmth. Behind the livestock barns, carnival rides whirred and spun, while vendors called out for customers to try their kettle corn or enter raffles. From the main pavilion, the clang of a hammer echoed — today’s main event was about to begin.
