Angry rain.
It slammed against roofs and flooded the narrow streets until tricycles crawled like uncertain insects through muddy rivers. Vendors covered their carts with plastic sheets. Children ran barefoot, shrieking with laughter or fear.
Maria had gone to the local rural health center to deliver attendance forms for a community literacy program. It wasn’t technically her responsibility, but the nurse assigned to paperwork was caring for three children and a sick mother.
So Maria went.
By the time she reached the health center, she was soaked through. Her blouse clung to her back. Strands of hair stuck to her forehead. She wiped her face with the edge of her scarf as she climbed the cement steps.
That was when she saw them.
Two small boys.
Twins.
They were sitting on the steps beneath the overhang, but the wind had driven rain sideways so that they were drenched anyway. A thin piece of cloth covered them uselessly, plastered against their heads and shoulders.
They were huddled together so tightly it looked as if they were trying to fuse into one body.
