Someone is humming. It is a nice, gentle song. She likes it. Slowly, she gets up from the spot by the fireplace where she has fallen asleep, and turns to look at the beautiful lady sitting on the sofa. The light from the fire gives her a warm glow. She smiles at the little girl. Her little girl.
"Mummy? What are you doing?" the girl asks, teetering to her mother while still groggy from sleep. She rubs her eyes.
"I'm making paper stars, darling," her mother says, her voice as calming as ever. She always sounds like she should be singing lullabies. The little girl believes her to be the best singer in the world.
Her gaze falls on the stars in the jar on her mother's lap. They shine just like real stars do. It must be her mother's magic. "What are they for?"
"Wishes. If you make a wish and fold a paper star, it will come true."
She believes that. If her mother says so, it must be true. "Really? What did you wish for?"
