Far, far away—so far that Earth looked like a tiny blue marble—there was a galaxy made of cotton candy clouds and rivers of lemonade. That’s where Lina lived, in a cozy spaceship shaped like a snail, with walls that smelled like warm cinnamon and floors that squeaked like a mouse singing opera. Squeak-squeak-squeeeak!

Lina had hair the color of strawberry jam and eyes that sparkled like the shiny buttons on her favorite overalls. But today, those eyes weren’t sparkling. They were busy staring at the door of the spaceship, where Mom’s boots had just gone clomp-clomp-clomp down the ramp. The door whooshed shut, and Lina’s tummy did a little flip, like a pancake in a frying pan. Flip-flop.

"She’ll be back soon," Dad said, patting Lina’s head with a hand that felt as rough as a tree trunk. "Just like always." But Lina’s fingers twisted into knots, and her toes curled up inside her socks, which were as fuzzy as a caterpillar’s back. The spaceship suddenly felt too big, like a giant’s pocket with nothing but crumbs inside.

Then—TAP-TAP-TAP!—something knocked on the window. Lina jumped so high she nearly bumped her head on the ceiling. Outside, floating in space, was a tiny star. Not a big, shiny one like the others. This one was small and wobbly, like it had just learned how to dance. It had a face, too! Two round eyes and a mouth that giggled when it moved. Giggle-giggle!

"Hello!" the star said in a voice that sounded like wind chimes in a breeze. "I’m Wiggly. I saw you looking sad, so I came to play!" Lina’s nose wrinkled. "Stars don’t talk." Wiggly wobbled closer. "This one does! And I know a game!" Before Lina could say zoom, Wiggly zipped around the spaceship, leaving a trail of glittery stardust that smelled like bubblegum. Whoosh!

"First, we count the space clouds!" Wiggly said. Lina peeked out the window. The clouds weren’t fluffy like on Earth—they were stretchy, like gum you could pull with your fingers. Boing! Lina laughed as she counted: "One, two, three…" But then she forgot and started over. "One, two—" Giggle! Wiggly wobbled so hard it nearly bumped into a planet made of jelly. Wobble-wobble!

Next, Wiggly taught Lina to make shadow puppets on the spaceship’s walls. Lina’s hands were as clumsy as a sleepy octopus, so her rabbit looked more like a lumpy potato. Snort! Wiggly laughed so hard it spun in circles, leaving a trail of sparkles that tickled Lina’s nose. Achoo!

Then—BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!—the spaceship’s alarm rang. Lina’s heart jumped like a popcorn kernel. Pop! "That’s Mom’s signal!" Dad said, rushing to the door. Lina’s toes uncurled, and her fingers stopped twisting. The door whooshed open, and there was Mom, her arms full of space rocks that clinked like ice in a glass. Clink-clink! They smelled like rain on a hot sidewalk.

Wiggly wobbled excitedly. "She’s back! Just like I said!" Lina grinned so wide her cheeks felt like two ripe apples. She hugged Mom tight, her arms squeezing the smell of rain and rocks. Then she turned to Wiggly. "Will you come back tomorrow?" Wiggly giggled. "Only if you promise to count the clouds wrong again!" And with a whoosh, it zoomed away, leaving a trail of bubblegum-scented stardust.

That night, as Lina snuggled into her bed (which was as soft as a cloud made of marshmallows), she listened to the squeak-squeak of the spaceship and the distant giggle-giggle of Wiggly playing hide-and-seek with the other stars. And she knew—no matter how long Mom or Dad were gone, they’d always come back. Just like Wiggly. Just like the sun after the rain. Squeak… giggle… zzz.