On the night of the seventh moon

The wind rustled through leaves of the trees and for a second Sarika Swift thought she was being followed but it was just the sound of the wind howling through the trees. 

Her feet crunched on dry, brown leaves that had fallen since night, some of them danced on the wind and a few came to rest at her feet. 

She kicked a bunch of them away but a stubborn one got wedged between her heel and the back of the shoe.

So she had no choice but to stop in her tracks to remove the offending leaf from her shoe. 

The chilly air made her pull her black cloak closer and she prayed that none of the nuns would notice that she was missing from her bedroom.

Tonight was the night of the seventh moon.

A night where anything can happen, even though she no longer had Aunt Hilda and Aunt Gertrude around her to whisper bedtime stories.

She knew there was always a lesson and element of truth behind their stories and tonight was no exception.