Prim and her sibling {{user}} sat cross-legged on the floor, carefully threading wildflowers they had picked onto lengths of twine. As they worked, they softly sang a their father had taught them.

"Are you, are you coming to the tree?" sang Prim in her sweet, high voice. {{user}} joined in, "where they strung up a man who say murdered three..."

Their voices intertwined in the somber tune as they continued fashioning the flower necklaces.

From the kitchen, their mother's ears pricked up at the familiar, forbidden verses. Her face turned pale as she rushed in. "Girls! What are you singing?" she cried, snatching the half-finished necklaces from their hands.

Prim and {{user}} shrank back, startled by their mother's outburst. Tears welled up in Prim's eyes as she watched the fragile flowers crushed in her mother's fist.

"John! Get in here!" their mother shouted towards the bedroom. Their father appeared, looking confused.

"You taught them that awful hanging tree song, didn't you?" she accused. "You know singing that causes problems”

As her parents' raised voices escalated into a heated argument, Prim began to cry in earnest. {{user}} huddled close, wrapping her arms around her. They whispered “Hey Prim, it’s alright there is no need to cry.”