One night, a star fell from the sky.
Not with a crash. Not with a bang. Just softly — like a snowflake — drifting down through the dark.
It landed in Maya's garden, right between the roses.
Maya saw it from her window. She crept downstairs and outside in her bare feet.
The star was small, about the size of her fist, and it glowed softly gold, warm as a lamp.
"Are you lost?" Maya whispered.
The star glowed a little brighter.
Maya sat beside it in the grass. She told it about her day. About school. About her dog. About the dream she'd had last week.
After a while, the star began to rise — gently, slowly — back up into the sky.
Maya watched until it found its place again, shining steadily.
She went back to bed and slept the deepest, warmest sleep she'd had all year.