I didn’t speak much Swedish, but the swears I knew by heart.

Devi and I rushed out of my room and into the hall. Mom was at work for a few hours yet, so it was just us and my grandmother. Mormor was in her craft room, a place I associated with the West Wing from Beauty in the Beast because I’d been forbidden to go in there upon penalty of death. The last petal had fallen off her rose a while ago, leaving her in her perennially salty meat suit, but apparently there were still things to protect in her craft sanctum; the warning she’d issued when we’d moved in almost the same as it’d been when I was five and visiting with Mom.

“Mormor? Are you okay?” I asked, knocking.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. Just a little spilled paint. Be careful when you open the door.”

Open the door? I’m allowed in there?

It was likely a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and so I took the invitation, less because I was worried about my grandmother’s well-being—she’d told me she was okay despite the crash—but more because maybe I’d be able to see what magical things she had hidden inside.

The door opened.

My breath did, in fact, catch in my throat.

It was a nursery.

There was another small bedroom next to Mom’s that I’d assumed would be the baby’s space. But Mormor had instead converted her own craft room to accommodate my sprogling. The walls were painted rich navy blue and there were gold-foil stars of varying sizes everywhere. These weren’t the sticker decorations you could buy on the internet, either. She’d hand-stenciled about a trillion of them, along the tops of the walls and curving down around the corners of the room. It must have taken her forever to finish them all, but somehow, I’d never caught her in there.

“When? Oh, my God, Mormor. This is beautiful,” I said.

Devi nodded. “Wow, this kid’s super lucky. Really nice, Mormor.”

Mormor sniffed and mopped up a small puddle of spilled gold paint, her smile tight. “Thank you. Little Star needs her space. And it’s getting cold out. The yard work is over for the season. I have time during the day when you’re at school.”

I was emotional. Again. I battled the tears, managing to keep them at bay, but Devi knew. She patted my shoulder and pulled me in for a half hug. I collected myself so I could help Mormor clean up the paint, but when I tried to stoop from the waist... Nope. No go. I couldn’t do it. The belly was in the way and I was stuck hovering halfway to the floor. I reached for the door frame, intent to kneel and try to help that way by going on my hands and knees, but Devi shouldered past me.