“Mama!” Desa shouted as she pulled the basement door open. The damn thing had come right off its hinges, and moving it caused it to fall to the floor. She hurried down the steps, ignoring the pain, desperate to find her mother and her child.
Leean’s basement was almost indistinguishable from Desa’s: stone walls, wooden shelves, a dirt floor. The only light came from the candles Leean must have lit at some point during the long night.
Desa found her mother standing in the corner.
The other woman wore a rumpled, purple dress that was covered in dust. More of it coated her weathered face. But most importantly, she had Brendan with her. The baby whimpered as he snuggled against his grandmother. “You’re all right,” Leean breathed.
Standing on the stairs with one hand on the railing, Desa hu
