The air was hot, she didn’t like it. She couldn’t breathe.
Eyes watering as she fell down to the kitchen floor feeling like someone was pressing a hot brand to her brain, Marisol cried out for her mama and papa. Amaia appeared covered in soot as she looked lost. Holding her daughter close, Amaia sat her on a symbol in her bedroom.
It had once been covered by the cute rug Amaia had put down on the wooden floor. But as the cabin they’d stayed in burned down around them, Amaia knew it was time. Crying placing her confused daughter on the sigil. Amaia dripped her already bloody hand over the markings as she pushed a bag full of money in her daughter’s arms. Her hands shaking as Marisol cried for a hug. But they didn’t have time for goodbyes and Amaia instead showed her daughter her love.
