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Chapter 155.

Amelia's POV

She nodded sleepily against my shoulder.

"Yes, I want to. And can we make cookies for her when we go?"

"Of course, honey," I said as I reached her bedroom.

The weight of the phone conversation with Mom settled on me again as I carried Chloe to her room. The little girl looked impossibly small and fragile in my arms, a stark contrast to the strength and courage my mother was displaying in the face of her illness.

Placing her gently on the soft sheets, I tucked the covers around her chin. Chloe's eyes, usually wide with boundless energy, were drooping with sleep. Her earlier enthusiasm for jousting competitions and imaginary worlds had faded, replaced by the peaceful languor of approaching slumber.

"Amelia," she mumbled, clutching Sparklemane tightly.

"Yes, sweetheart?" I asked, leaning closer.

"Will you tell me a story?"

A smile tugged at my lips.

"Of course, honey," I replied. "What kind of story would you like to hear tonight?"

"A story about a brave princess who fight
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