Her voice broke.
“But it was already too late.”
I began crying.
Suddenly, an image flashed through my mind.
My mother was carrying me through the yard.
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Her face was darkened by smoke.
And I kept asking:
“Where’s Daniel?”
My mother continued.
“Your father arrived at the hospital after everything was over. When he saw me covered in bandages, he couldn’t even speak for a long time.”
I stared at my mother’s arms.
“So those scars… they’re from the fire?”
She nodded.
“Yes. But that’s not the end of the story.”
I felt my heart pounding again.
“At the hospital, when they removed my bandages for the first time, I broke down crying. I thought everyone would see my arms and start asking about Daniel. I couldn’t even bear to hear his name.”
My mother paused.
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