A name on a birth certificate should be one of the simplest facts about a person’s life. Mine became the starting point for uncovering aliases, family history, old letters, and a story about my parents that I didn’t discover until years later.
A childhood fire took my brother Brian and left behind memories I carried for years. My mother was burned trying to reach him, while I was left with fragments of that night and a recurring dream that made me question what I remembered. The Fire I Didn’t Forget is about loss, memory, childhood guilt, and eventually finding peace.
