Aurora makes her decision in the time it takes the Hat Lady to take one measured step: she bolts. The birdseed goes with her — there is absolutely no time to release it responsibly — and she scurries down the side aisle in a determined half-crouch, white dress flashing, yellow sash streaming, and ducks behind the baptismal font with a soft but unmistakable thud. Flavio stares at her. She stares back, breathing hard, one fist still full of birdseed. For a moment they are perfectly united in the logic that has served them well their entire two years of life: if you cannot be caught, you cannot be in trouble. The Hat Lady's footsteps draw steadily closer, unhurried as ever. The font, it must be said, is not a large font. Two round toddlers behind one round font has the structural geometry of a comedy act awaiting its punchline. Uncle Gianni, from the aisle, covers his mouth with his pocket square.