ADVERTISEMENT
she whispered, “I’m sad too.”
“I know, angel,” Elena said. “I’m sad too.”
Valentina reached out and touched Elena’s cheek, light as a butterfly wing.
Elena let the tears fall.
Sometimes tears were proof that a person was still alive.
By the sixth week, the wall began to crumble.
Lucia spoke of Isabella first. Her mother sang while cooking. Sang while bathing continue reading …
ADVERTISEMENT