“Lily, stop hiding and come to mama.” Her melodic voice rang through the small house. The tiny patter of footsteps bursting from behind the curtain along with the squeal of laughter. Arms enveloped the small child, Polly picking her up with ease and spinning around the kitchen. “Mama, you’re bad at hide and seek.” Lily’s voice rang through before she was placed back firmly on the ground. “We aren’t playing that anymore. I have a surprise for you.” Her mother’s smile was infectious as a second-hand copy of Peter and Wendy was plucked from the counter and held out to the five-year-old. Eyes grew wide as tiny hands reached for the book, gentle fingers brushing at the gold lettering of the title. Polly held her hand for her child to take, slowly guiding her to the small blanket set up in the front yard underneath the tree for their afternoon storytime.

As soon as Polly sat down, Lily clambered into her lap pawing at the book to open to the first page. Brows furrowed in confusion at the handwritten message scrawled there. Tiny fingers reach out to touch the freshly written words. 

Lily,

You don’t need pixie dust to help you fly, you will soar just fine on your own.

Love, Mama.

Her tiny head tilted back, beaming up at her mother as she read the message out loud for the five-year-old. “I can fly like Tinkerbell?” She asked, not understanding the meaning behind the message. Polly simply nodded, kissed Lily’s head, and turned the page. "Yes, baby. You can fly just like Tinkerbell." 

Lily sat on the edge of her bed with the book in her lap. Her eyes were closed as she relived the last happy memory of her mother. She could feel the afternoon sun kissing her skin, her mother’s voice changing bringing each character to life. She couldn’t bring herself to open the book, to see her mother’s hand and that message she had left behind. Tears slipped down her cheeks as fingers brushed over the cover. Finally, she mustered the courage to open the first page. Dark orbs flicked down and danced over the handwritten words sprawled on the page. “I’m sorry, mama.” She whispered, clutching the book to her chest as she sank down on the bed. “I’m not the girl you wanted me to be.”

She hadn’t known how long she had been lying there clutching the last memory of her mother. Prying herself from her comfort zone, she started to ready herself for the upcoming event. As soon as she had heard about the time capsule, she knew exactly what she wanted to put inside. The last sliver of her innocence.