Back then, the child did not understand a thing. He was dirty, restless, and aching; his face was covered with soot. Ever since the Bright Flash, he hadn't been allowed to leave the house, and it always seemed to be nighttime outside. He couldn't see much out the windows anyway; too much smoke and ash, like a black snow day. Nobody came to visit. It was just Mom, Dad, and him, and his Grandpa and Grandma. And now Grandpa and Grandma were gone. She smiled in resignation. "Run. You're next."