Both suicidal children and children dying of cancer do the same thing from time to time: they mimic a bird’s last song. Three short whistles in rapid succession.
When I saw Marc for the last time, he was asleep. It seemed like I scared him: he woke up in panic, did the whistle thing, pulled the boomerang from under his pillow and started hitting that dark spot on his arm with it. The spot was melanoma, but he was too young to understand it.
He died three days later. Then, we found glass shards inside his stomach.