The Hat Lady blinks once, slowly — the blink of a cat acknowledging a gift left at her feet. Then the corner of her mouth lifts. She reaches up with one careful finger and seats the boutonnière more firmly among the silk roses, giving it a small, decisive pat. She gives Aurora the tiniest of nods: the nod of one professional to another. Aurora accepts this. Transaction complete. She turns and pads back four steps, scales the back pew with the considerable effort this requires at two years old, and settles against Uncle Gianni's side with the composure of someone who has simply been sitting here the entire time. Gianni, still flushed, still watching Flavio work, wraps an arm around her automatically without so much as a glance. The ring hymn surges into its final chord. Flavio's wand drops — a crisp cutoff. The nave holds a breath. Gianni looks down at the twins, one on each side, both perfectly angelic, and exhales slowly.