Eight Years AgoOslo, Norway
Winter had wrapped the old streets of Oslo beneath a quiet blanket of snow.
Soft white flakes drifted from the gray sky, settling on rooftops, benches, and empty flower pots that waited for spring.
The city was beautiful.
Tourists admired the old buildings.
Families hurried home carrying shopping bags.
Children laughed as they threw handfuls of snow at one another.
Life continued as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong.
Yet...
Not everyone walking those streets belonged to that peaceful picture.
A young girl carefully walked through the crowd.
She could not have been older than sixteen.
Her thin coat was several sizes too large and had been stitched together so many times that its original color was impossible to recognize.
Snow clung to her worn boots.
Her hands had turned red from the freezing air.
Despite everything...
She never let go of the tiny hand she was holding.
Beside her walked a little girl.
No older than seven.
