The pink dress had been Amira's choice.
Seven-year-old Amira had stood in the shop for eleven minutes before making the decision — eleven minutes longer than her mother's patience but exactly the right amount of time for Amira, who understood that certain decisions required the proper duration. The dress had a sash that tied at the back and small buttons that took forever. Her aunt had photographed her in it twice already tonight. She was aware of looking correct.
The garden was full: tables close together, the smell of food from three households layered into something too complicated to name. String lights hung along the back wall. Children ran between the tables with the particular freedom of celebration evenings.
Fifteen-year-old Yusuf watched from near the back gate and felt the evening was not enough. He wanted to give it something.
His friend had appeared beside him, clocking the paper bag under the fig tree.
"Are those what I think they are?"
"Hassan's brother got them. Professional grade."
"Your dad's going to lose it."
"My dad's inside." Yusuf picked up the bag. "And it'll be over before he knows."
His father had said it clearly last year: no fireworks, they're illegal, they're unpredictable, they're not for people who don't know what they're doing. Yusuf had agreed. He agreed with most things his father said. But Hassan's brother had handled these before, had described exactly what they did, and Yusuf had watched the video twice on his phone.
He retrieved the bag and set up the first one near the far wall, angle aimed straight up, the way the video showed.
The first one worked perfectly — a straight line up, a white burst, three seconds of silence, then the pop. The garden erupted. Children stopped running. His uncle, who never smiled at things Yusuf did, smiled and called out across the tables: "Where did that come from?"
Yusuf grinned. "I've got two more."
Cheering.
What about you?
The first one went perfectly. Yusuf had never been more certain it was safe. Have you ever escalated a risk because the first attempt went well?
Amira had worked her way to the front of the children watching him. She stood six metres away, hands at her sides — the way she watched things she didn't want to look too excited about in case they disappeared.
"Is the next one bigger?" she called.
"Bit bigger," Yusuf said. "Stand back."
She stepped back half a step. She was smiling.
The second one.
He held it too loose. He felt it shift in his hand as it went off. The angle was wrong by fifteen degrees.
It travelled sideways.
She was wearing the pink dress.
The dress caught first.
The Aftermath
Emergency Response Report
Female child, age 7. Burns: 34% body surface. Areas affected: right side, arm, shoulder, partial face. Cause: illegal firework, sideways trajectory, direct impact and ignition of clothing. Transferred to burn unit.
Fireworks Analysis — Civil Defence Report
Device: illegal commercial-grade firework, unregulated composition. No safety fuse. Trajectory unpredictable without proper launch tube and anchoring. Sold by unlicensed vendor. Three other injuries reported in the region from the same product lot on the same evening.
Yusuf's Statement — Police Interview
"I wanted it to be special. I knew it was illegal. I knew it was a risk. But I thought the risk was it not working. I didn't think the risk was her. I keep thinking about how she was watching me. She looked so pleased when the first one went up."
Amira's Physiotherapy Journal — Six Months Later
"The other kids stare at my scars. Mama says they'll fade. She says it like she's sure. I look at them in the mirror and I think — Yusuf was trying to make the night special. He wanted everyone to be happy. I know that. I still know that. But the scars don't know that. Their whispers don't know that. I'm going to wear the pink dress again. I decided. It doesn't fit over the bandages yet but I'm going to wear it when it fits."