Nia sat by her window, her gray hair gleaming in the moonlight as she watched for animals that didn't exist. "Max, come see!" she whispered, but her little brother was already asleep. Or so she thought. A crash of thunder woke her hours later, and Max's bed was empty. "Max?" she called, her heart racing. That's when she noticed them—silver pawprints glimmering on the floor, leading out the door and into the stormy night.

Nia followed the pawprints through the rain, clutching her stuffed elephant for courage. "Max!" she called, her voice swallowed by thunder. The trail led to the old abandoned park, where a gate now stood that hadn't been there before—wrought iron twisted into animal shapes that seemed to move. As the town clock struck midnight, the gate swung open. "Hello?" Nia whispered, stepping through. The world behind her disappeared, replaced by soft blue light and the distant sounds of creatures she'd only seen in dreams.

"You shouldn't be here, little dreamer," rumbled a voice. Nia spun around to face a lion made entirely of swirling stardust. "I'm Lumo," he said, his mane shimmering like the night sky. "And you're looking for someone." "My brother Max," Nia replied, trying to sound brave. "He disappeared during the storm." "The storm wasn't in your world alone," Lumo said, padding closer. "Something's wrong in the Moonlight Zoo. Lost things are being forgotten faster than ever before."

"Another visitor? How curious." A boy stepped from the shadows, looking no older than twelve despite the ancient wisdom in his eyes. "I'm Keeper Thomlin," he said with a bow. "Welcome to the Moonlight Zoo, where all lost things find their way." "My brother—" Nia began. "Was taken to the Cage of Forgotten Things," Thomlin finished gravely. "You have until dawn to find him, or he'll fade from memory entirely—even yours." "But how will I find him?" Nia asked, panic rising in her chest. "Follow the memories," Thomlin replied, handing her a small silver compass. "But beware—the Zoo knows what you've lost before."

As Nia and Lumo ventured deeper into the Zoo, a flutter of invisible wings brushed her cheek. "Who's there?" she called. *Who's there? Who's there? Scared little girl with memories dark as her hair...* "That's Echo," Lumo explained. "She repeats what you're thinking, not what you're saying." *Find Max, find Max, before he's gone like Mom and Dad...* "Stop it!" Nia cried, covering her ears. "Echo can help us," Lumo said gently. "She can hear thoughts from anywhere in the Zoo—even your brother's."

The silver compass led them to a lush garden where creatures moved among the foliage—dodos, thylacines, and animals Nia didn't recognize. "The Garden of Extincts," Lumo whispered. "Be respectful—they're the last of their kind." A massive bird with iridescent feathers blocked their path. "No one passes without answering my riddle," it announced. "What gets bigger the more you take away?" "A hole!" Nia answered, remembering a riddle Max once told her. "Clever child," the bird said, stepping aside. "Your brother passed through here, following the one who smells of forgetting."

Mist swirled around Nia's ankles as they entered a forest where trees whispered secrets. "The Fog Forest of Imaginaries," Lumo explained. "Home to creatures that exist only in dreams and stories." Shapes moved in the fog—unicorns, dragons, and beasts with no names. "How will we find our way?" Nia asked, as the path disappeared. *Think of him, think of him,* Echo's voice floated nearby. *The fog parts for those who remember clearly.* Nia closed her eyes, picturing Max's laugh, his missing front tooth, the way he always stole her crayons. The fog parted, revealing a clear path forward.

The compass led them to a circular room lined with mirrors, each reflecting a different animal. "The Mirror Menagerie," Lumo said. "Be careful what you look at—the mirrors show what you've forgotten." Nia walked slowly, seeing strange creatures in each reflection. Then she froze before one mirror that showed not an animal, but her parents—smiling, waving, as if they were just behind the glass. "Mom? Dad?" she whispered, reaching out. "Nia, don't touch it!" Lumo warned, but too late—her fingers brushed the surface, and the mirror shattered, plunging them into darkness.

Nia found herself alone in a storm of swirling images—the night her parents went for a drive and never returned, Max crying in his crib, the empty chairs at dinner. "Make it stop!" she cried, covering her eyes. "You must face it," Keeper Thomlin's voice came from everywhere and nowhere. "Memory is the key to the Cage." "I can't!" Nia sobbed. "It hurts too much." "Then Max will be forgotten," Thomlin said sadly. "Just like you're trying to forget them." Nia took a deep breath and opened her eyes, watching the memories play out. "I remember," she whispered. "And it's okay to remember, even the sad parts."

The storm cleared, revealing a massive birdcage suspended over an abyss. Inside, shadowy figures moved listlessly—people and creatures fading at the edges. "Max!" Nia called, spotting her brother's familiar outline. He turned slowly, his features blurry. "Nia? I can't remember... who am I?" "You're Max," she said firmly, reaching through the bars. "My brother who loves dinosaurs and hates broccoli and always beats me at checkers." With each detail, his form grew more solid. "The key," Lumo nudged her. "Use what you've learned." Nia touched the lock with her compass. "I remember you," she whispered. "And I won't ever forget."

The cage door swung open, and Max tumbled into Nia's arms. "We need to hurry," Keeper Thomlin appeared, pointing to the sky where stars were beginning to fade. "Dawn is coming." "How do we get back?" Nia asked, holding Max's hand tightly. "The way you came," Thomlin replied. "But faster." Lumo crouched down. "Climb on!" They raced through the Zoo, past the Mirror Menagerie, through the Fog Forest, across the Garden of Extincts. Behind them, exhibits began to shimmer and fade as the first hint of sunrise touched the horizon.

They reached the gate just as the first ray of sunlight crested the trees. "Goodbye, little dreamers," Lumo said, his stardust form already dispersing. "Remember us." "I will," Nia promised, as she and Max stepped through the gate. They found themselves back in the park, the storm cleared, dawn breaking over their town. "Was it real?" Max asked, rubbing his eyes. Nia smiled, touching the silver compass in her pocket that hadn't disappeared. "As real as memories," she said. That night, she added two new drawings to her journal—a lion made of stars and a bird that knew her thoughts—alongside the fading photograph of her parents. Some things might be lost, but nothing truly loved is ever forgotten.