That's how old she is when her mom dies, pinned to the ceiling and gutted like an animal, mouth agape in a wheezing gasp that should have been a scream as she's engulfed in flames above their heads. She's frozen with terror, unable to look away until her dad scoops her up under one arm and carries her to safety. Her baby brother is crying, but she can't make a sound. She stares up at the house in silence.
When the firemen come to put out the flames, a policeman pulls her dad aside to talk to him. Dad hands Sammy over to her. He's so little, but he feels heavy. Her arms ache with the effort of holding him after only a minute. She holds tighter, fixes her eyes on Dad and refuses to look away, even when a lady policeman comes to ask her questions, too. She won't say a word to anybody.
It's a long time before she says anything at all.