The rain outside was pouring down, and its staccato rhythm against the window pane was enough to keep Serena awake. Those big eyes of hers were wide open, staring at me,
Despite my own fear of thunder, seeing my delicate child made me feel a mother's courage. Every time I sensed a thunderclap was about to explode, I'd cover Serena's ears right away.
It was as if the heavens had a personál vendetta against us that day. Rather than the quick, passing storm one might expect, the rain seemed to have been increasing in intensity. Outside, shadowy figures occasionally rushed by, their outlines blurry in the deluge.
The phone rang. It was my mother. "Eliana," she said. "Where are you and Serena? You didn't take an umbrella with you. Try to find shelter; you can't let the child get wet!"
"We're fine. We're waiting out the storm inside a shop." I reassured her.
