Read an Excerpt
LIGHTNING STRUCK, and a brilliant white light bloomed, illuminating the night sky outside Lucely Luna’s bedroom window.
Four hours had passed since her bedtime, but the thunderstorm outside kept her wide-awake.
She'd tried every one of her abuela's tricks—including taking slow, deep breaths while focusing on the warm glow of the fireflies coming from outside her bedroom window—but nothing had worked.
Lucely hugged her knees to her chest, gazing out the window. She counted the seconds between the flash of lightning and clap of thunder, praying that it was still too far away to strike her home.
"One, two, three. . ."
BOOM!
Lucely threw the covers over her head with a shriek.
"Niña," a voice whispered.
Lucely slid the blanket slowly from her face so only her eyes were exposed. The soft glow of one of her firefly family members filled the room.
"Mamá?" Lucely asked.
Like water sparkling in the sun’s rays, the firefly transformed before her. The translucent form rippled before becoming whole, solid.
Lucely's grandmother, Mamá Teresa, settled onto the bed beside her. Well, her ghost did.
"¿Qué te pasa, mi niña?" Mamá reached for Lucely's hand. Her touch was soft and warm, just like it had been when she was alive. Her voice always comforted Lucely like fuzzy socks and Dominican hot chocolate.
"I'm scared," Lucely whispered to her abuela.
Mamá brushed Lucely's curls out of her eyes and kissed her forehead before beginning to sing softly, her accent thick yet clear as the sound of rain on a metal roof.
"Duérmase, mi niña,
"Duérmase, mi amor,
"Duérmase, pedazo de mi corazón . . ."
Mamá's voice wrapped around Lucely like a wool blanket, and before the song had ended, Lucely was drifting away from the storm outside and to a place that was quiet, safe.