Lara lay awake, eyes fixed on the dark wardrobe. Midnight tick-tocked from the clock. She pulled her quilt to her chin and stared at the shadow.
Elio hopped off his bed and grabbed her hand. 'Come on,' he whispered, 'I want to see the garden.' She followed, toes cold on the wood.
They tiptoed downstairs and slipped into the London street. Cobblestones clicked under their shoes. Streetlamps painted long golden puddles on the wet ground.
A pair of green eyes blinked from the brick wall. A fluffy cat stretched and walked toward a gate at the end of the lane. She reached for the latch — cold iron, stuck fast.
The gate creaked open. Flowers glowed silver in the moonlight, and fireflies drifted upward like tiny stars. She gasped, forgetting to be afraid.
A deep owl hoot echoed, and she stepped backward, nearly tripping. He grabbed her hand and squeezed tight. 'It's okay,' he whispered. 'Look —' and pointed at the swirling fireflies.
The garden wrapped around them like a dream. Flowers hummed softly, petals shimmering like crushed starlight. She sat on the cool grass and watched him chase a firefly.
She sneaked back into bed, her pajamas smelling like night flowers. Elio was already asleep, a small smile on his face. She snuggled under the quilt and closed her eyes. Not afraid at all.
