By a window of an apartment in an urban city, a little girl sat staring out into the horizon. In her hands held a leather-covered book, loosely clipped closed with a silver hook and lock. Her small grip tightened around the edges when she gazed up into the sky, the orange city lights blaring as reflections upon the dainty stars.
Soft footsteps approached. "Honey...?" Her mother rubbed her eyes, clearly having just woken up. She stood clumsily under the door frame, before walking slowly towards her daughter.
"What is it?" She gently asked, taking a seat behind the little girl, looking above onto the night sky as well. The brightness glistened onto their eyes.
"Mama..."
"Yes?"
"Is it true that great-grandma was a hero?" The small girl turned around, with the most inquisitive, not-sleepy look on her face (really, it was a pity for her mom, who had spent an hour convincing this kid to sleep).
Her mom laughed, her white, even rows of teeth showing in her open smile.
"Yes, that's quite true."