Lucy walked out to the shore she liked to watch when she was afraid. She had a piece of driftwood she had found as a child. A piece of a boat. She took it out and stared at it. This was a piece of how she got here. 10 years ago.

She thought her parents raised her, she didn't know she was adopted. She didn't know she was from that awful place. But now that she knew, on the tenth anniversary of when she was found, the memories flooded back. She thought she was heading to a happy place, a magic place.

She thought she would die at sea. But she landed on shore of a free place and her parents found her. They understood enough. They destroyed the boat she came on, so there was no proof. But she found a piece on the shore she landed on within a week.

This piece of driftwood was her world. And her origin.

She understood the truth now. Her mommy was killed. She would have been too. She was alive now, and strong now. She had to know the truth. So sudden… but she was going to find out the truth. Understand why. Destroy them. She was 16, but she was strong enough. 

She was going to be a fairy. Her wish would come true. She would become a ferry of death. This was her past and her destiny. She didn't tell her parents, she was ready now. She climbed in another flimsy rowboat and set sail again. Above her a star shot.

She didn't make a wish.