Mother would notice that the level of wine was lower than it should be, but Kira didn’t care.  Maybe she’d buy her another bottle.

The candle was a waste, too, but again, necessary.  She had got no time to herself all day, and anyhow it all seemed more fitting by candle and starlight.

Carefully she unwrapped and laid the poem on her bedside table, and read it even though she had memorized all the words long ago.  Then opening her window she gazed out at the nighttime sky, and raised her glass to the stars.  “Happy birthday, Frodo,” she whispered.