"Grandma, when will Dad and Mom come back to pick me up?"
It was a summer evening, the remnants of the setting sun streaming through the balcony glass and falling on the little boy nestled in the rocking chair.
The old-fashioned fan struggled to rotate, but the wind it whipped up was still warm.
Grandma held a palm fan in her hand, gently wafting cool air onto his face—the only trace of relief in the stifling summer night.
"Aning, just wait a little longer, they'll be here soon."
"Grandma, when they come, will you go with us? I miss Dad and Mom, but I really don't want to leave you."
Bathed in the golden afterglow was Grandma's gentle, smiling face.
In the years that followed, this scene often appeared in his dreams, except the golden glow turned into blazing flames—so hot, so painful.
Grandma smiled amidst the raging fire until she was completely swallowed up.
It became the nightmare he could never wake up from.
Sometime later, he fell asleep.
