The following summer had naturally separated their paths, each one leaving to build his life on his own. Without tears or resentment — just two young people growing up apart. She had traced her path. Met the man she would marry. Build a fireplace. Gave birth to a daughter. Then lost her husband, a month of March.
His daughter had pressed the button without knowing it
A few weeks after this bereavement, her sixteen-year-old daughter arrived in the kitchen, phone brandished, her eyes sparkling. The cult band of their youth was giving a concert in town. No girlfriend free — would her mom agree to accompany her?
