The manager pulled out a chair.
“Please sit down.”
Grandma shook her head.
“Tell me about the little boy.”
He carefully unfolded the newspaper.
Its headline described the fire.
And the rescue of a child by an unidentified young woman.
Beneath it was a photograph of the building.
Windows shattered.
Black smoke rising.
I recognized the entrance we had walked through that morning.
The manager pointed to a second clipping.
“This appeared many years later.”
The headline read, “MAN SEEKS STRANGER WHO SAVED HIM AS A CHILD.”
Grandma reached for it.
“He’s alive?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The manager nodded.
“He’s an old man himself now.”
Grandma closed her eyes.
A tear slid down her cheek.
“Thank God.”
The manager waited.
“He’s spent years trying to find you.”
Grandma looked down at the photograph of the coat.
“After all this time?”
“He couldn’t remember your face.”
The manager pointed to the newspaper.
