Her silver hair was neatly pinned.
One hand rested stiffly in her lap.
Thomas knelt beside her.
“Mom, remember the woman who carried me out of the fire?”
The woman nodded.
“Of course.”
Thomas looked toward Grandma.
“We found her.”
The woman lifted her eyes.
She saw the green coat.
Then Grandma’s face.
Her mouth opened.
“Oh, my goodness.”
Grandma gripped my arm.
“No.”
The woman began crying.
“You were so young.”
Grandma couldn’t speak.
She reached toward Grandma.
“It’s you.”
Grandma shook her head.
“I thought…”
She couldn’t finish.
Thomas moved aside.
His mother reached out her good hand.
Grandma knelt beside the wheelchair.
“I thought you died.”
The woman held her fingers.
“I nearly did.”
She explained that part of the ceiling had collapsed across the passage.
But the fallen display had shielded her from the worst of it.
Firefighters reached her through a service entrance.
