Prologue
I always thought that the stars were beautiful. They always seemed to shine, twinkling always, like they had a purpose in doing so. It always made me sad when the night sky was cloudy and the stars were not visible. Before she died, my sister would always wake up with me to watch a meteor shower or a passing comet or a lunar or solar eclipse. Where are you now Marie, I wonder. Papa says you’re in a better place, with Mom and Dad, but I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything any more.
