My Daughter

When Anthony arrived, the news was on, but the television was muted. Footage of fire and smoke filled the screen. On the couch he saw his mother, busily scribbling on a drawing pad. "Mom?" He moved closer when she didn't answer. "Mom," he said slowly. "There was a bombing downtown."

"Mhmm," Amy mumbled.

"At the museum."

"Yes."

"Melody was working today."

Amy stopped drawing. She turned and offered her sketching tablet to her son. "I've been working on a story. A graphic novel. I knew how it would end, but I wasn't sure how it would get there."

Anthony examined the hand drawn scenes. In the background he heard his mother unmute the TV.

"…and survivors say a young employee threw herself over the bomb. Investigators are puzzled by the minimal damage done to the museum. A suspect is in custody…"

In the last frame, Anthony saw his sister, smile on her face, surrounded by a halo of golden light.