It was a clear Saturday in the second week of September and the terrace was empty.

No chairs, no lights, no arbor decoration — just the wooden frame and the stone path and the pines going up the slope behind it, and that specific hard blue Colorado sky you get in September.

The manager gave us the box in the lobby and was decent about it and did not linger.

Hannah took the basket out and carried it out onto the terrace.

She stood at the top of the stone path where the aisle had been and looked down it for a while.

“I practiced for like a month,” she said.