“Once upon a time, there was a Clever Tailor…” Nerves grip her.

But before doubt can fully take hold, inspiration strikes her. She doesn’t need to recite her mother’s stories; she can make up her own. That’s what her mother does, after all. She finds herself grinning as the next words leave her mouth.

“And the Tailor had a daughter who was very clever too, but instead of sewing and doing magic, she was a scientist.”

She swells with the thought of the words, pride filling her. Timothy pulls away from her side to peer up at her.

“What’s a scientist?”

“Oh. Well, it’s someone who studies books and learns things about the way plants and animals grow, and the way planets move, and how to make people better when they’re sick.” She struggles to find terms that might be familiar to him.

Timothy frowns. His hair sticks up on one side of his head where he’s been pressed against her, and she reaches automatically to smooth it down. He tolerates the touch, but his frown lingers.

“Looking at books doesn’t sound like an adventure,” he says. His voice holds no judgment, not the way Peter’s would, only the beginnings of disappointment. But there’s doubt, too, as though Timothy is merely waiting to be convinced. She thinks quickly, then launches back into the story.

“Well, the Tailor’s daughter was a different kind of scientist. All her instruments were also magic. She had a telescope that could see every star in the sky, no matter how far away. And… it could transport her to those stars to visit the people living on them and other planets too.”

Timothy’s expression brightens.

“That’s all right, then. I like magic.” He leans against her again. Is that where they are, she wonders, on another star? There’s a catch in her voice when she speaks again, but Timothy doesn’t seem to notice.

“The Tailor’s daughter also had a magical compass that could point north like any other compass, but also point to where the best adventures were…”

Timothy stays pressed against her side as the words unspool. It’s almost like her mother is telling the story through her, but even better, like they’re telling the story together. It makes her a little less afraid; it makes her feel a little less alone. Even though she can’t see or feel her mother, she knows with absolute certainty they’ll find their way back to each other soon.