My soul can’t bear the weight of her hatred. I’m already tired. I want to rest.
The boy hasn’t let me rest in twenty-five years.
I make another deep cut on my forearm. There’s a distinct whisper of pain beneath all the noise—noise I want to silence and hear all at once.
The boy has gone silent. Now there are only the noises he left behind.
He didn’t just want revenge. He wanted the end. That’s why he hated Elowen—she was making me choose life.
So many voices echo in my skull. My mother’s sweet lullabies. Her laughter. Her cries. Her sobs. But she’s not alone. There are loud whispers of another woman I love.
The door in front of me opens. Light pours into the dark room, reaching the corner where I sit. I squeeze my eyes shut, hiding from the burning brightness.
But the moment my eyes shut, memories rush in, swallowing reality.
I’m nine years old again. Sitting on a thin, worn mattress, waiting for my mother. She told me to stay here silently.
Yesterday, someone killed Papa. I didn’t feel sad. I never liked him anyway—he used to beat Mama.
Two nights ago, he came home late. Mama was asleep beside me. She’d drifted off after singing lullabies. I was almost asleep too, until I heard her cry out.
I sat up and watched Papa drag her out of my room by her hair. Then he locked the door from outside.
Now he’s dead. No one will hurt Mama anymore.
Yesterday, our uncles took our old rooms and gave us this storeroom instead. Mama said it’s only for a few days, then we’re leaving.
Today, she told me to stay inside all day and not make a sound.
I stayed here. Reading my books.
And now Mama is here.
She smiles when she sees me. She locks the door and comes to me, sitting on the mattress beside me.
“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t bring food sooner.”
She takes out three pieces of bread.
“Today, you can only eat these.”
I stare at the bread. I can’t eat just bread, but I’m hungry. I pick one and take a small bite. I manage only one before shaking my head.
“No more. I’m full.”
Mama’s face falls. “Eat one more. You haven’t eaten all day. You’re not full.”
She holds a piece to my mouth. I take it reluctantly. That makes her smile.
“Salvario!” Antonio’s panicked voice pulls me from the memory and throws me into another.
The day Antonio took us from Papa’s mansion. We’re in his house now. Mama is sleeping upstairs. She has a high fever.
Antonio hands me a plate of sandwiches. “Take this to your mother. I’ll bring her soup.”
I take the plate and rush to the room where Mama is sleeping. She hasn’t spoken to me since yesterday. Maybe she’ll talk after eating.
Everything is fine now. Antonio said we’ll never have to go back. We’ll live with him here. And one day, when I’m strong enough, I’ll make them pay for everything they did to Mama.
