My name is being called like a victory cry, and there are so many arms wrapped around me—around one another—I barely feel the rain. I can barely understand what they’re saying through their own tears and over each other, can hear only the joy, the joy, the joy. But Katrin’s voice I piece together word by word. She’s saying the same thing again and again, like a prayer that is finally answered: “I knew, I knew, I knew someday you would find us,” she’s weeping. “I knew if I lit the candle, you would find your way back home.”
