Nearly every girl on the cusp of womanhood imagines herself to be special. Whether it’s a fairy bloodline, or a mortal gift that’s hers alone, her dreams are deceptions. For even if she medals gold or an Oscar bears her name, even if she meets someone wonderful to love and love her back, even then, all stories end same. One day, she’ll be forgotten, and then she will be dust. Stardust, perhaps, but dust being dust, the distinction doesn’t signify.