The fire roared into the sky. Katara felt the heat several meters away, behind the barricade. She was only vaguely aware of the firefighters' battle against the flames. Some men rushed into the blaze with protective clothing. Others brought hoses into position.

She clung to her husband and stared at the orange horror that had a firm grip on the building. The flames that ate through the building. Smoke and heat rose from them, marking this spot for all those whose loved ones were stuck in that hell.

One of the windows on the eighth floor. That was where her workplace was. That's where her daughter had been working when the fire broke out. So far, she had not left the building. She pinned all her hopes on the firefighters being able to rescue her.

"Are you missing someone, too?" Startled, she turned to the young girl now standing next to her. The maybe twelve-year-old was staring at the building. The girl had shoulder-length, almost black hair. She reminded Katara of her daughter, even if the hair color was different. She had trouble not bursting into tears right away. The girl probably missed her parents. Parents who might have been trapped in the flames, too.

"Yes," she finally answered the little girl. Her voice almost broke and she sobbed as she looked back at the building. "My daughter ... she just started working there yesterday."

"I see." The girl didn't turn to face her. She almost looked as if she had already come to terms with the fact that she would never see her parents again. The sad look on the little girl's face would have broken her heart if it wasn't for the fact that she was busy worrying about her own daughter.

"I... it's going to be okay," Katara said. Partly to reassure the girl, partly to reassure herself. "The ... fire department is doing its best!"

A window burst and the inferno roared. She winced. Only out of the corner of her eye did she notice the girl staring stoically at the fire.

"There is a legend," the girl said suddenly. "That in some disasters an angel appears and saves a person's life ..." There was an almost infinite sadness in her voice. Katara did not contradict her. She had heard the legend ... but it was just a legend. Still, she could not possibly take the girl's last hope from her. A hope she would have loved to cling to as well. Her husband pressed her closer to him, as if he had read her thoughts.

They stood in silence for a few seconds, then he let go of her. Firemen came out of the building. Involuntarily, she too took a step forward and straightened to see more. Was it ...? Long auburn hair. Did they possibly have ...? She did not dare to hope.

Her husband jumped the barricade first and squeezed past the firefighters. She had a harder time following him, but she managed. Somehow she caught a glimpse of the young woman's face. It was her daughter!

Katara used all the strength she had to get to her side. "Enya!" Her husband was already talking to their unconscious daughter. She took the rescued woman's hand and brushed a strand from her soot-blackened face. She felt so cold. Even though she had just been in a hell.

A paramedic knelt on the other side, shooing her husband and her to the side. He checked her pulse. Long silent seconds passed that felt like an eternity. Then he acted quickly, stretched her head back, and began CPR.

Katara's heart stopped for several beats as she understood what this meant. This could not be true. At first she had feared that they would not find Enya. Then they had shown up with her. And now she lay like dead on the ground. But her daughter couldn't die yet. She was far too young! She couldn't die. Children should never die before their parents! Especially not now! She had a friend. A grandchild was on the way. And she had found a permanent job! Why was she, of all people, ripped from her life far too soon? "Please, come back," she said, looking skyward.

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"She won't make it." The girl's voice cut through her sudden prayer. Katara suppressed the impulse to scream at the little girl. Trembling, she turned to face the child. The girl stared at her daughter. At Enya. Why was she interfering here? She was about to tell her in no uncertain terms that she should take care of her own problems, when she stopped. Something was strange.

Suddenly it was quiet around her. Ashes floated through the air as if in slow motion. Her husband was frozen in place and the paramedic didn't seem to be moving either, frozen in place during chest compressions.

Katara swallowed and looked around. Everything seemed to have stopped. Only when she looked toward the building did she notice a hint of movement. The flames seemed to still have life in them, but instead of crackling harshly and eating away at the substance of the meter-high structure, it seemed as if they were gently caressing the stones.

"What ... what's happening here?" she asked.

The girl looked to her. Deep sorrow was reflected in her large light blue eyes.

"Do you remember the legend?" The child took several steps forward and slowly walked toward her daughter.

"I ..." Katara swallowed and looked at Enya. The child didn't seem like an angel, but at the moment it was the only explanation her head would allow. "D... does that mean you will save my daughter?" she asked timidly.

Silence. The girl did not answer immediately, but squatted down next to her daughter. The child's small hand stroked the pale face of the unconscious woman. "What would you do to save her?" she finally asked in a voice that itself threatened to break.

Katara stared at the girl for a moment. She didn't understand the question. Wasn't an angel supposed to help just like that? With no strings attached? Her eyes fell on her daughter again. At that moment Enya seemed so pale, so fragile, so ... She would do anything to save her. "Anything," she said aloud.

"Then I have a request for you," the child said, straightening up. Light suddenly seemed to emanate from her. The girl was dressed in jeans, T-shirt and simple shoes. She wore her hair loose which seemed to float in an invisible, gentle breeze. She appeared half human ... half like a figure made of light. Wings appeared behind the child, brilliant white ...

She stared at the little angel's wings, or what should have been the wings of an angel. True, she had stretched them out fully, but ... they were bare. Only a single, last feather protruded from her right wing, and Katara had the impression that the light emanating from her was a good deal fainter than it should have been.

"Love," said the child, without commenting on her appearance. Katara scolded herself for the thought. Why did she expect an angel to explain herself to her? The girl reached for the feather. "Love has become rare in this world. Whether it is the love you show to your children or to your loved one." The girl's gaze met Katara's. "But above all, the love of your neighbor is a commodity as rare as this feather." The angel closed her eyes and plucked the feather from her wing. The child flinched. Katara flinched as well. Just watching it hurt.

"My request to you ... to all of you ... is to bring more love back into the world." She turned and gently placed the feather on Enya's stomach. As she released the feather from her hand, the glow around the girl disappeared. The feather now seemed to be the only source of light and it grew stronger. Even the light from the flames seemed as if they had faded.

"I ... I'll do my best," she promised.

"Thank you." The angel smiled. But the smile did not reach her eyes. Eyes that held such infinite sadness. Katara was about to say something else, when the light of the feather became glistening. The glow sank into Enya's body and the feather disappeared.

The girl - the angel - sank to her knees, fell to the side and ... crumbled to dust. Katara took a deep breath. Was she ... dead? Had the child just given her life to save Katara's daughter's?

She felt tears falling down her cheeks as time abruptly moved on. As if in shock, she stared at the dust motes carried away by an invisible wind. What had she done? What had happened?

Coughing brought her out of her stupor and she looked at her daughter. Enya opened her eyes, took a deep breath and coughed a few more times. The paramedic spoke soothingly to her, then waved them closer.

Only in passing did she notice that the firefighters were beginning to extinguish the fire. She took her daughter's hand in hers and felt the warmth radiating from it. Gratefully, she pressed her hand to her lips and kissed it. For a moment she had the impression that energy was tingling on her lips.

Had it all been a dream? An illusion born out of her desperation? She swallowed. Even if it had been an illusion: she would keep her promise. Even if it had not been real, a miracle had happened for her. Smiling, she squeezed her daughter's hand tighter. Then she looked up. Surely there were more people here who needed help. She didn't know how to keep her promise, but she would do her best!