After the sun sank below the trees, Aliya followed a trail of silver grass into the whispering forest.
She found a dozen fallen stars scattered in the moss. One drifted toward her and tapped her knee twice — tap, tap.
She held out both hands and the star settled inside, warm and humming softly.
Aliya carried the star to the tallest oak tree and set it on a high branch. It glowed bright for one second, then slipped down and dropped into a puddle with a soft plink.
She fishes it out. It was dimmer now, its light the pale color of old newspaper.
She walked to the rocky hill and tossed the star gently toward the sky. It arced upward beautifully, making every fallen star blink with hope, then fell back down into a thorny bush.
Aliya fell to her knees and reached into the prickly leaves. She pulled out the star, curled into a tight ball with barely a glow.
She wrapped her arms around the curled star and whispered, 'It's okay. I'll help you find your way.'
The star uncurled with a soft pop, glowed bright gold, and floated up to tap another star — then another.
Aliya hums a low steady tune, and the sound lifts the stars upward one by one, bouncing off the leaves like bubbles.
Aliya walks home beneath a sky full of bright steady stars.
A single golden speck drifted down and landed on her sleeve, glowing softly. She looked at the speck, then at the sky, and kept walking with a quiet smile.