Beyond the dark green trees, a pink castle stood on a quiet hill. Its turrets caught the last light of day, and one small window glowed amber above the rose garden.
In her bedroom, Rosella noticed a seam behind her tapestry — a thin line of rose-gold thread running down the wallpaper. She pressed her ear close and held her breath.
A muffled giggle drifted through the seam. Rosella tugged the wallpaper edge and it curled upward, revealing an arched doorway just tall enough for a small girl to slip inside.
She dragged a wobbly tower of books across the floor and stood upon it. The brass doorknob turned with a click like a cricket chirping, and a rush of lilac and warm damp earth spilled out.
A tiny golden speck zipped past her cheek. Rosella stepped through the doorway and found herself at the edge of a garden unlike any she had ever seen.
Every flower glowed like a paper lantern, pulsing softly in shades of pink and gold. A dozen butterflies hummed a round-robin melody, and the air itself seemed to shimmer.
A fairy no taller than Rosella's thumb hovered down and tapped her knee twice. Rosella bent low, watching the tiny wings beat faster and faster.
The fairy spread her translucent arms. Rosella curled hers into a platform, and a butterfly alighted gently on her outstretched finger — then let out a sound exactly like a tiny silver bell.
Hand in hand, they walked the stone path. Rosella whispered stories about castle cats, and the fairy pointed to flowers that opened only after dark.
Rosella looked at the path stretching ahead, lit by glowing flowers and dotted with fluttering wings. She decided she would visit every single day.