Scarlett Dragnaâs bedroom was a palace built of wonder and the magic of make-believe. But to a person whoâd forgotten how to imagine, it might have just looked like a disaster of dresses. Garnet-red gowns littered the ivory carpets, while cerulean frocks hung from the corners of the iron canopy bed, swinging gently as a gust of salty wind snuck in from the open windows. The sisters sitting on the bed didnât seem to notice the breeze, or the person who entered the room with it. This new figure slipped inside quiet as a thief, making no noise as she crept toward the bed where her daughters were playing.
Scarlett, her eldest, was busy straightening the petal-pink petticoat resting on her shoulders like a cape, as her younger sister, Donatella, wrapped a strand of creamy lace across her face as if it were an eye patch.
Their voices were high and light and morning-bright, in the way that only childrenâs voices can be. Just the sound of them was magic, melting the harsh midday sunlight into bits of luminous butterscotch that danced around their heads like stardust halos.
Both of them appeared angelic until Tella announced, âIâm a pirate, not a princess.â
Their motherâs mouth warred between smiling and frowning. Her youngest daughter was so much like her. Tella had the same rebel heartbeat and adventurous spirit. It was a double-edged gift that had always given her mother so much hope, as well as fear that Tella might make the same mistakes she had.
âNo,â Scarlett said, more headstrong than usual. âGive it back, thatâs my crown! I canât be a queen without a crown.â
Their motherâs frown won as she edged closer to the bed. Scarlett was generally less combative than Tella, but both girlsâ mouths twisted stubbornly as their hands wrapped around opposite ends of a pearl necklace.
âFind a new crown, itâs my pirate treasure!â Tella gave a fantastic yank and pearls flew across the room.
The mother caught one, deftly capturing it between two delicate fingers. The tiny globe was as pink as her daughtersâ cheeks, now that both girls had finally looked up to see her.
Scarlettâs hazel eyes were already turning glassy; she had always been more sensitive than her sister. âShe broke my crown.â
âA true queenâs power isnât in her crown, my little love. Itâs here.â Her mother placed a hand over her heart. Then she turned to Tella.
âAre you going to tell me that I donât need treasure to be a pirate? Or that my greatest treasure is right here?â Tella put a tiny hand over her heart, mimicking her mother.
If Scarlett had done it, their mother would have imagined the gesture to be sincere, but their mother could see the devilry in Tellaâs eyes. Tella had a spark that could either set the whole world ablaze, or give it much-needed light.
âI would actually say your greatest treasure is sitting across from you. There is nothing quite so precious as the love of a sister.â With that, the mother picked up her daughtersâ hands and squeezed.
If there had been a clock in the room, it would have stopped. Occasionally, there are minutes that get extra seconds. Moments so precious the universe stretches to make additional room for them, and this was one of them. People donât get pauses like these very often. Some people never receive them at all.
These little girls didnât know this yet, because their stories hadnât begun, not really. But soon their stories would take off, and when they did, these sisters would need every stolen moment of sweetness they could find.