Shooting Stars

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It took a moment for me to realize what happened.

My grandpa Jerdons was old, about 112. We never really talked with him much, or even saw him often, but I knew he was close to my mom. And that he was rich.

Now that he's dead, we're his only successors. Mom was an only child. Her parents died young, when she was only thirty. Anyone who is over the legal age has to have a will written and documented, or they could be jailed. Even Mama and Papa have talked about writing me a will, to keep me safe for the future. He must have put us in his will. He must have. We must be one of the richest people ever. The realization took a while.

"Papa," I whispered, "Are we going to be the next ones?"

He didn't answer my question, though I know he had heard me. Instead, he walked back to the house, leaving me standing there. I turned to Mama, but she didn't say anything either. I watched her trailing dress as she followed Papa.

When neither of them called me in, though it was dark, I laid down on the lawn. I knew it was illegal. I could get jailed or even killed if I was out past sunset.

But I could see all the stars against the black sky, and even some trailing stars. I knew that before the War, people had wished on them, wishing for anything their hearts desired. Their wishes never came true. I decided to take it as bad luck. Why wish upon the future is the past is what you need to change?

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