(the following, written in November 2015, is a direct prequel to Freedom – I just remembered about it today)

I remember that on the day Fatema was born, what hair she had was curled so sweetly that it was as if angels had been twirling it around their fingers. I remember her beatific smiles as she grew from baby to child. I remember her gurgles and burbles turning into words and sentences that spoke of her growing love of language. I remember her trusting nature and the care she took to please family and friend alike. I remember the day that her trust was betrayed.

It happened on a bright day – the kind where the sky and the sun bid you welcome to the world and the sidewalk was full of greetings and … (snip)

Source: reviewing and redrafting