"They are very sad," her mother said as she tried to navigate the groups standing silently and awkwardly facing the Petit Cambodge restaurant and the Carillon cafe, trying not to look at the patches of bloodstained sand on the pavement where the 14 people who died there fell.
"But why are they sad?" the girl persisted.
"Because there are no answers," said Benedicte Joffre, who was there with her 11-year-old son. "And because this time we are more afraid."
"This time it is different," she said referring to the Charlie Hebdo and kosher supermarket attacks in January. "It is much wider, it is about terrorising us all."
"In January they attacked a certain idea of freedom, the freedom of the press but this time it is our whole society that they have attacked," she said.
Across the canal at Place de la Republique, which became the symbol of France uniting in the face of the earlier killings, there were tears, steely defiance, but also fear.
Helene Lagoutte had brought her four-year-old daughter Jeanette to watch people light candles and write messages at the foot of the giant statute of Marianne, the female figure who embodies the secular values of the French republic.
"I have tried to talk to my older boys too about Islam, and what happened in Algeria (a former French colony) because a lot of my 12-year-old's friends are Muslim and I didn't want him to think that they were to blame."
She said France was more traumatised by these killings not just because more people had died than in January, but because the jihadists had targeted "all of us", not just the Jewish community or journalists who had angered them.
