The late afternoon sun sliced through the dusty attic window, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air. Sarah stood, every muscle taut, eyes darting from antique trunk to cobweb-draped chair. "Are you absolutely sure, Liam? You remember it being the *summer* festival?" His carefree grin did nothing to ease the prickling sensation on her skin. She kept tapping her foot.
Liam chuckled, a sound that grated on her nerves. "Positive! We were sweltering, remember? Eating those awful corn dogs. And the Ferris wheel… it was magnificent at dusk." He gestured expansively. Sarah, however, recalled biting winds and the relentless drumming of rain.
"I remember us huddled under a tarp, freezing," she stated, her voice sharp. "And the Ferris wheel? It was closed for repairs. The whole fair was a washout." She paced, her hands clenching and unclenching. This couldn’t be right.
Liam shrugged, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "Maybe we went to different events that year, and we're mixing them up?" He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that usually calmed her. Today, it only fueled her agitation. "I'm telling you, the smell of burnt sugar, the joyous crowd, the summer heat... it was *definitely* the summer."