Three months ago, I went to bed as a daughter and big sister. By morning, I was an orphan and a mother. The night of the fire is mostly flashes in my mind. Heat pressing against my face. Smoke so thick it felt like trying to breathe through wet cloth. The distant roar of flames. Somewhere through the haze, I heard them — Caleb and Liam — screaming for me. My little brothers. Six years old. My whole world. I remember grabbing a shirt, wrapping it around the doorknob so I wouldn’t burn my hand. I remember thinking, I have to get to them. I have to get to them. After that, it’s blank….CONTINUE READING IN BELOW
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