She woke early, like she always had.

But today was different than other days.

Before…she’d come onboard she’d woken to the sound of her mother singing in the kitchen.

It was her good morning song.

She’d never known what it meant.

Her mother was of Italian origin, and she’d always sung in Italian.

They’d taught her Chinese, everybody spoke it after all, but she’d never seen much point in learning Italian.

She wished she had now.

She could remember the song, word for word.

And every morning since….they’d died.

She forced herself to acknowledge it in her mind.

To make it real

Every morning since their deaths, she’d woken confused.

Not knowing where she was.

Not in her bed, not in her home.

No smell of coffee wafting up the stairs.

No sound of breakfast cooking.

No grousing from her father for being stupid enough to marry a morning person.

No singing echoing through the house.

But today was different.

Today when she woke she knew where she was.

She knew she was in her bed, in Serenity.

She heard the quiet hum of the engines.

So quiet a hum that it was more felt than heard.

Like a cat purring.

She heard the pilot…

No, River.

She heard River talking to herself, softly enough that she couldn’t pick out any words.

The distant pops and clangs Serenity made.

When she woke up this morning she knew that her parents were dead.

That the home she’d grown up in was gone.

The house was probably still standing.

But it wasn’t home anymore.

But Serenity wasn’t home either.

It could become home.

Someday.

Maybe.

But for now it wasn’t.

She wondered how long she’d been onboard.

She hadn’t counted; one day had been pretty much like any other.

Something to be endured.

To be got through as best as could be.

And what point in counting how many one had gotten through when there would only be another to survive tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the next.

She got up, got dressed.

Today was different.

Instea