By the time Mom whisked Meira in and out of the tub, dried off and in her pajamas, more than an hour had passed. Shadows deepened and lengthened, sighing into darkness as night took its turn. It didn't take much convincing to prop my sister up into her own bed. I curled up next to her in her big pink four-poster in her frilly pink room that always made me feel slightly nauseated in daylight. We listened as our mother told us a fairy tale. Even Sassy joined in the fun, finding a comfy place for himself on the satin bedspread between us. Meira blinked slowly, worn out from the earlier excitement. It didn't take long for the rhythmic sound of our mother's voice droning out a story to bring on huge yawns.
Mom folded up the book and bent over Meira, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.
"Night, sweet one," she said.
"Night, Mommy," Meira answered. Mom gave me a steady gaze full of meaning before leaving the room.