My husband made me promise I would never go into his father’s room. Two years later I finally broke that promise, and what I found on the old man’s body put me on my knees. 😨

“Did he get hurt?” young Lucía had asked, her voice barely a whisper. “The man who saved me?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” the nurse had said kindly. “But whoever he was, he was very brave.”

Lucía had spent years wondering about her rescuer. As a child, she’d imagined him as a superhero, invincible and mysterious. As a teenager, she’d tried unsuccessfully to find him, reaching out to local news stations and posting in online forums, describing the eagle and rose tattoo and asking if anyone knew who he might be. But no one ever came forward, and eventually she’d accepted that she would never know who had saved her life that day.The memory had faded somewhat as she’d grown up and moved forward with her life, though she still thought of her mysterious rescuer every year on the anniversary of the fire. He’d become almost mythical in her mind—a guardian angel who’d appeared when she needed him most and then vanished back into whatever realm heroes inhabit.