"Doesn't it look like they fell from the sky?" Star's pale brown eyes widened in wonder. "Who?" Her mother was distracted, and glanced over, squinting at the painting. "Them. The people on the ship." "Oh. I suppose. Come along now, Estella." But the six year old wouldn't move, staring up at the painting. The waves were frothy and the sky was dark, but there was a ship in the distance, and the sky seemed to have opened for it.