When I woke up the next morning, I took a deep breath, expecting my throat to burn and my chest to sing. The first breath was always the hardest since it brought me back to the place where being alive meant pain. But at least I had lasted another night. I was tired of fighting. Every sunrise, a part of me wished that I had passed silently into the night, but each time hope prevailed, and through coughing, gurgling, and spitting blood, I lived.

Each morning I forgot how bad the previous one was, and that same hope kept me going. Maybe I was a little bit better today. Maybe the coughing was lighter. Maybe I’m starting to heal. Maybe. This morning there was no maybe. I closed my eyes, took that dreadful breath, and it filled my lungs to the fullest, filled them with life, and I exhaled the doubt. I was better. There was no question about that.

That little satisfaction you get when air stretches your chest was new to me. I expected it to burst any second. I was used to getting by on tiny sips of air, borrowed time. But I kept breathing, and the cough didn’t come. Not on the second breath, not on the third, and not on any of the countless careful ones I did in the next hour. The excitement made my chest move up and down, my heart beating like a drum.

I got up only after I was sure this wasn’t another dream. I looked for grandmother, impatient to tell her of the miracle, but she wasn’t around the house. She must have gone to gather herbs or visit the other sick people in the village. But I had to tell someone, so I ran out of the house and followed the road until I remembered how it felt to get winded out of fatigue, not out of coughing. My legs trembled, for I had barely moved for a month.

I no longer had to be asleep to live.

“I’m cured! Look, I’m cured!” - I said to the other children on my way to the fields.

“By the gods, what are you doing!?” - my mother yelled at me when she saw me running towards them - “Stop immediately, you’ll hurt yourself! Boys, walk him home quickly.”

“No, no. I’m cured. I’m no longer coughing. I woke up this morning, and I didn’t have anything!”

Mother didn’t believe me at first, but after a quick scolding, I managed to convince her that I was fine. So I spent the day with them, not doing too much just to be safe, but I finally got to spend the day in their company again.

Every little thing filled my heart with excitement. The lizards were crawling between stones, the sweat was trickling down my temples, and the grunting of people at work. I couldn’t wait to tell my grandma. I couldn’t wait to see the shock in her eyes when she saw me approaching. It will be priceless.

But when we went home that evening, there was no one there. The candles weren’t lit, and her cheery voice didn’t come from the yard. Only the wooden idols rustled as we entered. The hearth was cold, and only the goats greeted us.

“Did you see your grandmother this morning?” - mother asked, and I saw a worried look grow on her face.

“She wasn’t here when I woke up. I thought you might’ve seen her before you left.” - I said.

“We should go and look. That’s not good. Come on, boys.” - father said.

We asked around the village, but no one had seen her after the last night. She had visited the ill children and then disappeared into thin air. But as we walked from door to door, we didn’t hear a single child coughing. We saw the blankets around the fire empty and teary eyes full of joy. I wasn’t the only one who woke up feeling better today. We went as far as we dared into the forest, calling grandmother’s name, looking for tracks. But when the sun went down, the wisest thing to do was turn back.

“Maybe something happened to her.” - my brother said.

“No, not to your grandmother.” - mother said - “She has a reason not to be here.”

Crops could wait. We spent the next days looking for her night and day. Only mother faced her absence with fierce resolve. She was worried, yes. But she knew that she hadn’t fallen in the forest, lying somewhere helpless. She thought that it wasn’t a mere miracle that burned the illness away from everyone in a single night.

“She had a reason to leave. We could turn every rock in that forest, but if she doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be.” - mother said.