Mama had said she’d let Mateo know the kids might need help with the repairs—but that would be tomorrow. Tonight, they had to weather the storm.
It wasn’t heavy rain at first—more wind than water, swirling through the trees like whispers with teeth. But the roof, sturdy in spirit but worn by time, gave way. Rain began to seep through the dry rot, dripping in slow, steady trails.
Solani and Juno worked quickly, using the lining of a canvas bag to stuff the worst of the leaks. It wasn’t perfect, but it slowed the flow. The buckets, placed earlier, caught the rest—each one filling with the rhythm of the storm.
Kaylani found a dry patch near the far wall, just wide enough for all of them to sit. Kalen lit the lantern Mama had sent, its glow soft and steady, casting golden light across their damp clothes and determined faces.
Lupi stirred in Juno’s pouch, ears twitching, but stayed curled and dry.
They didn’t speak much. Just sat together, listening to the wind, watching the buckets fill, and feeling the treehouse hold them—imperfect, but trying.
Solani looked up at the beams. “We’ll need help.”
Juno nodded. “Tomorrow.”
For now, they had light. And each other.
The rain had slowed, but the treehouse still dripped in quiet places. Juno arrived breathless, lantern glowing, Lupi nestled dry and warm in her pouch.
She handed out supplies—buckets for the leaks, towels for the floor, and the butterfly pouch for safekeeping.
Solani placed the lantern near the center beam, its light casting soft shadows across the wood.
Kaylani opened the pouch and gasped. “It’s stitched with Mama’s thread.”
Solani inspected the pouch, it seemed aged, and the threading wasn't quite as fine as Mama's work, non the less, it was very familiar, too familiar, maybe it was stitched by their mother in a younger time, a little butterfly in the stitch, aged but still intact, she knew the stitching was indeed their Mothers'.
Kaylani opened the pouch slowly, her fingers tracing the butterfly stitch.
“This is Mama’s thread,” she said softly. “She uses it for lantern wraps and memory cloths.”
Kalen leaned in. “It smells kinda like rosemary and a little like paint.”
Juno smiled, holding the lantern steady. “She gave it to us from the shed. Said it was for remembering.”
Solani nodded, already placing the pouch near the center beam. “Then this will be our special place for the items .”
Kalen gently unfolded the cloth inside. “This shimmer... it’s Willow Wick.”
"Willow what?" Juno asked puzzled looking at the thread. It did shimmer, it wasn't just the lighting, everyone had saw the same thing.
"It's Willow Wick, made from silky threads of Moon Moths." Solani corrected.
"How do you ...?" her words trailed off, Juno's puzzled look soften with realization. What they found was a little magic.
The rain started up again, the wind started helping it seep into the cracks, creating puddles; that alone might ruin, their special finds.
They worked together, patching what they could. The towels soaked up puddles. The buckets caught the last drops. And the butterfly pouch? It became their first relic drawer—where they’d place small things that mattered.
Juno tucked a pebble inside—smooth, warm, found near the shed.
Kaylani added a ribbon from Ms. Link.
Kalen placed a leaf shaped like a heart.
Solani folded the list she’d written and slid it in last
.Lupi curled up in her warm pouch as the rain continued its soft beat
They found a something and made it special-together.