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Buriram Tourakom of the K'miri Hau Ma
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Buri cradled her newborn gently. She could hardly believe that she and Raoul had a son. She had labored hard and long for this. Raoul smiled down at her and their boy.
"What should we call him?" he asked. Buri looked scrutinizingly at her son's face. Suddenly a powerful memory overtook her.
"I can't believe she really did it," Thayet said through her tears. "I can't believe she's dead."
Kalasin jin Wilima was dead. In the panic surrounding the suicide Buri's mother and brother had been killed. Even after two days, Buri couldn't quite believe that they were gone.
Pathom was dead. Her wonderful handsome brother, the young man who'd been her light for years. They were very close, always playing jokes and sharing stories. And now he was gone, just like that.
"I'll never forget how beautiful she was," Thayet said, forlornly blowing her nose. Buri wiped her eyes on her sleeve and turned to the open window.
"I won't forget either," she promised herself and her brother.
Buri's eyes filled up with tears. She looked up at Raoul, smiling.
"His name is Pathom."