NEW YORK MAY 2002
“Happy birthday to you,” they all sing. “Happy birthday dear Luna,” Luna’s smile brightens. They all hug her small body. Luna’s now 7.
“Mummy, when will my baby brother or sister arrive?” She asks with the most delicate smile. She fiddles with her necklace her mother and father brought for her special day. A necklace of a silver moon.
“She or he is meant to be due in August, Luna.” Her mother smiles holding her bump. She giggles “Oh, she’s kicking.”
“Does it want to come out?” Luna asks.
“No, not yet, Lunie”
“Does the baby love me?” She fiddles with her moon necklace.
“The baby will adore you.”
“Who’s ready to blow the candles?!” Her father shouts walking over to them with the cake in hand.
“ME! ME!!!!!!” She squeals in her seat.
“Make a wish.”
And just like that, she wishes, and she blows the darkness into the room.