Book 3: A Rude Wake-Up Call

Rose

Kelly sits by the window, singing a tune that I recognize from my childhood. It talks about the silver moon and her flashing stars helping her look down on children. The moon guides their journey, and the stars light up their path. Kelly’s red hair looks like a flame as the light from outside hits it from different angles.

“I am not a very good singer, but I will be singing the babies' lullabies when they are born. I would like them to get to know their aunt's voice now before they’re born.” She turns to look at me as I sit on the bed, my back propped up by some scattered cushions. “Did you know that babies can hear your voice from the womb? Their vocabulary is actually developed from there.”

I smile at her as she gazes at me with starry eyes. Kelly has been reading so many baby and birthing books, one would swear she’s the one carrying the babies. Since the sad poisoning of the chef, she has taken it upon herself to check on me regularly. If