Leo laughed first. It was a wet, ragged sound that turned into a sob. Then Maya laughed, a bright, clear note that echoed off the canyon walls. It sounded exactly like the photograph.
“No,” Maya said, watching the ashes rise. “He wanted us to walk toward the stars. They’re just hiding until it gets dark.”
Maya’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. Their mother had died when Maya was three. Leo was seven. Neither had a clear memory of her laugh.
Leo laughed first. It was a wet, ragged sound that turned into a sob. Then Maya laughed, a bright, clear note that echoed off the canyon walls. It sounded exactly like the photograph.
“No,” Maya said, watching the ashes rise. “He wanted us to walk toward the stars. They’re just hiding until it gets dark.”
Maya’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth. Their mother had died when Maya was three. Leo was seven. Neither had a clear memory of her laugh.
Autorska prava – Matica crnogorska, 2025
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