Finley did not reach the Pink Palace until the moon was high in the sky. At this lonely time of night, it was as if the bright stars twinkled solely for her— guiding and illuminating her path.
But that's silly. The stars are millions of miles away, and even older than they are far.
(Still, the idea that a multitude of stars were watching over her made Finley feel a little braver than she would've felt otherwise.)
Finley caught her first glimpse of the Pink Palace as she turned a bend in the road.
It's not pink, was the first thought that popped into her head.
(Finley mildly disliked pink, and was cheered that her mother's childhood home was not, in fact, a bright shade of the color.)
Maybe it had been, years ago. But now the peeling paint was so faded it really had no color at all.
She soon forgot about colors, because she was busy noticing other things. There appeared to be at least two other apartments in the house (besides the main one), because there were some stairs leading up, and some stairs leading down.
She hiked up the creaky front steps. There was an ancient rocking chair, which she sat in.
"I suppose it's a bit late," she said. "Mother's old friend is sleeping."
She stared up at the stars.
"I suppose I should find somewhere to sleep."
A noise caught her attention. It had come from inside the building, she was sure. There it was again: a creaking. Or perhaps a squeaking.
Finley tiptoed to the door (which was a dull greenish color), and put her ear to it.
She listened.
Yes, there was certainly something in there.
Most likely a mouse, she thought.
She tried the door handle, just to see what would happen. To her delight, it was unlocked.
"Perhaps he knew I was coming, and left this door open so that I'd have somewhere to spend the night," she reasoned. She couldn't think of anything she wanted more at the moment than a warm cozy bed.
So she opened the door to the flat and went inside.
Finley wasn't sure how she had imagined her mother's childhood home to be furnished, but she found herself disappointed nonetheless. Only a few dusty chairs and a table greeted her tired traveler feet. Finley explored through all the rooms but one.
The bed won't be in here, she thought, but hoped she was mistaken.
She crept in, somewhat nervous about what she might find in an abandoned flat in the dim dark of the night.
Finley wasn't afraid of the dark, not really.
She just prefered the light.
There was nothing in this room, either, except...
...there was another door. A sliver of light shone from behind it. Finley was drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
She opened the door wide and stepped inside.