At number 7 St. Germaine Street, Cokeworth, England the Evans family was gathered in the nursery. Mrs. Evans sat in a rocker cradling a yellow bundle. Her two daughters, Lily and Petunia, knelt on either side of her staring down at the mass.
"She's so tiny!" Lily observed as she rubbed the blonde babies fingers. "And wrinkly. Why is she so wrinkly?"
Petunia nudged her. "She's less than a week old. You were wrinkly, too." Petunia turned her attention to her father standing besides the chair. "What are going to call her?"
"Iris." Mr. Evans answered brightly. "You mother's adding another flower to her garden."
"Can I hold her, Mummy? Please?" Lily pleaded.
"Alright." Mrs. Evans chuckled. She adjusted the baby in the girls arm tenderly. "Careful now, dear. watch her head."
Lily and little Iris stared wide-eyed at each other for a brief pause. "Hello..." Lily whispered.
"You're both big sisters now." Mrs. Evans noted. "That means you both have to help watch over her just like Petunia helped watch over you."
Lily gazed solemnly at her mother "I promise." She uttered this promise as if she had been handed one of the most important tasks in all of Britain. And in a way, she had. Petunia echoed her before cooing over the baby.
Mr. Evans laughed and patted their heads.
Soon it was Petunia's turn to hold the baby and Lily continued to question her mother.
This day they were the perfect family. This day they were at their happiest.
This would change all too soon.