Fifteen seconds to remember everything. Already an impossible task, the encroaching haze made it tougher. Fifteen years spent making it on my own. Fourteen days of freedom. Thirteen years since my parents died. Twelve nights of heaven. Eleven Ten Nine Eight Seven Six Five Four people who’d give anything. Three tries to get it right. Two hearts to mend. One chance in sight. Nearly fifty years of evidence had me willing to wager no one had ever laughed or cried harder than I had. But this story wasn’t just mine. It was ours.