ADVERTISEMENT
By the time Lucía lifted her head beneath the heavy wool blanket, blocking that thin blade of light under the door, every trace of sleep left my body.
My heart hammered so hard I was sure the person outside could hear it.
My sister-in-law was not sleeping in my bed because she was strange.
She was protecting herself from someone.
Then it vanished.
A soft sound moved in the hallway, controlled and careful, before silence swallowed the house again.
At dawn, Lucía was already in the kitchen, stirring oatmeal like nothing had happened.
“Who was outside our room last night?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
“You took my hand,” I whispered. “You blocked the light on purpose.”
“Please,” she said, glancing toward the ceiling. “Not here.”
That answer frightened me more than a denial.
Puebla stretched around us in quiet lights and cold air. Lucía sat on an overturned bucket, clutching her blanket.
My stomach turned.
ADVERTISEMENT