Every story has four parts: the beginning, the middle, the almost ending, and the real ending. Unfortunately, not everyone lives to see a real ending. Most people give up at the part of the story where things are at their worst, when the situation seems hopeless, but that is when hope is needed the most. Only those who persist can find their true ending.

Scarlett Dragna’s bedroom was a palace made of wonders and the magic of imagination. However, for someone who has forgotten how to imagine, it might have just looked like a mess of dresses. Deep red gowns were scattered across the ivory carpets, while blue dresses hung from the corners of the iron canopy bed, gently swaying in the sea breeze that slipped in through the open windows. The sisters sitting on the bed didn’t seem to notice the breeze, or the person who entered the room with it. This new figure slipped in silently like a thief, making no sound at all as she approached the bed where her daughters were playing.

Scarlett, her eldest daughter, was smoothing the pink petticoat that hung from her shoulders like a cape, while her younger sister, Donatella, was wrapping a strip of beige lace around her face as if it were an eye mask. Their voices were thin and light and bright as a morning, just as only children’s voices can be. The sound of them alone was magic, melting the harsh midday sun into pieces of shining candy that danced around their heads like halos of stardust.