Sometimes I ask myself how
That this destiny and I found one another.
I was five, when I witnessed
my two-year-old brother open the door of my family's fast-moving
car. Unable to reach him I cried out as I saw him falling. The
image of Mark by the roadside, motionless and white as sculpted
alabaster, and of my mother's agonized face are indelibly seared
in my memory.