The Day the Stars Fell
The morning sun spilled through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns across the wooden floorboards of the cozy cottage. A soft breeze carried the scent of wildflowers from the garden, mingling with the warm aroma of freshly baked bread. Laughter bubbled through the small house like a gentle stream, wrapping every corner in a blanket of comfort and joy. Today was special—Stella’s eighth birthday—an occasion that shimmered with a promise of happiness and light.
Stella’s reflection in the polished mirror caught her attention, a shy smile curling her pale lips. Her wavy jet-black hair, silky and thick, tumbled down her back in gentle cascades, catching the morning glow. The dress she wore sparkled faintly, embroidered with tiny silver threads that twinkled like distant stars across a midnight sky. It was her favorite gown, named after the very constellations she admired on clear nights. Her pale blue eyes, bright as sapphires, sparkled with innocent delight as she twirled before the mirror, the hem of the dress fluttering like a soft whisper.
“Stella, darling! Come downstairs, your breakfast is getting cold,” called Mrs. Everett, her voice warm and tender, filled with all…
