Mr and Mrs Morales exchanged a long look, an entire conversation passing between them in the space of a few seconds. The kind of wordless communication that came from decades of marriage, of knowing each other so well that words became unnecessary.
When Mr Morales spoke, his voice was heavy with a grief that had clearly never fully healed. "What do you remember about that night, Annie?"
Annie closed her eyes, reaching for memories that had always been frustratingly vague, like trying to see through fog. "Nothing clear," she admitted. "Just—smoke. Fire. Screaming. Someone—I think it was a fireman—was carrying me outside. And then waking up in the hospital and you both being there but being different somehow." She opened her eyes. "Everything after that is clearer. You're taking me t
