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It was January, but the sun was up in the sky, the day unlike any January day Noelle had ever experienced.
“They aren’t here of their own free will,” Lucero leaned in to whisper.
“What do you mean? Aren’t they doing this because they see Sergio as their god?” Noelle rolled her eyes at the statement, yet she couldn’t deny the reality she was living in. For days on end she’d witnessed a level of obsequiousness she’d never seen before, with everyone working at the hacienda bowing down to Sergio.
He didn’t even need to be present, for there were plenty of reminders of him all over the house; outside, too. Paintings, statues and otherholyobjects were laid all over the area of the hacienda, and people treated them with the utmost deference as if each object was imbued with Sergio’s essence.
If Noelle had doubted Lucero’s tales at first, she’d soon become convinced that the entire region operated on a cult-like level.
Everyone knew everyone, and outsiders were rarely permitted within the premise—and then, only by special invitation.
Like any cult she’d read about, Noelle realized that Sergio’s power relied on the limited knowledge he provided his subjects with. They didn’t know what the outside world was like, they couldn’t even imagine it. Lucero was the only one who’d been lucky enough to be exposed to some outside ideology that had made her doubt everything that had been drilled into her mind since young.
Most people were illiterate, too. The hacienda was littered with hieroglyph-like symbols that she recognized to be Aztec in origin, and the community only recognized those. Just one more way through which Sergio kept a tight leash over what his subjects were exposed to.
It was no wonder he was considered a god when it was all those people knew.
“No,” Lucero shook her head, pursing her lips as a sad look crossed her eyes. “El Señor’s subjects would never engage in such lowly work.”
“I don’t understand,” Noelle frowned.
“They are slaves. Some don’t even know where they are from. Others simply went against El Señor and they ended up there as punishment. The temple is the only place where you will ever find outsiders at the hacienda. But they are not allowed to engage with anyone else. Their only task is to build the temple. Every day. Work their fingers to the bone.”
“That’s where you were before, too, no?” Noelle’s gaze dipped to Lucero’s scarred hands.
She gave a brisk nod.
“I was lucky,” Lucero said, her voice distant. “No one survives the temple. It’s just work, work, work, until death claims every one of them.”
“The man you were telling me about… He was a slave, too?”
“He was,” she confirmed. “He told me he was being held up for ransom but his family decided not to pay it. He would have been dead if I hadn’t helped him escape.”
“So the temple work is like a labor camp, no?”
Lucero nodded.
“It’s the place whereeveryoneis sent to die. You have to be careful, Noelle. If by any chance he sends you there…”
“He hasn’t done so yet,” Noelle said pensively. “What if he’s not well?” She suddenly asked. “What if he’s dying and no one’s said anything because they don’t want it to get out? It’s been three weeks…”
“Maybe,” Lucero took a deep breath. “Everyone would be happier if that were so.”
The idea that slavery was still being practiced in that day and age shocked Noelle.
Had her brother known about it? Surely, he must have. He knew everything. Then how could he have willingly left her there?
For the first time, she was forced to admit she’d lived most of her life in a bubble. Only now was she exposed to the true debauchery of human nature. Only now did she realize that Ann Marie was just a little dot on the horizon compared to the monsters in the world.
Everything she’d previously experienced suddenly seemed so insignificant as she thought of those people who were forced to labor continuously until they met their death.
She’d never heard of such a thing before, and she didn’t think there was a worse death than being physically tortured daily in that manner, with no more autonomy over one’s body.
Long after their conversation, Noelle could not let the topic go—especially after she coaxed more details from Lucero about her experience. So one day, Noelle convinced her to go closer to one of the temples under construction—as close as they could considering it was heavily guarded.
As Noelle got a closer look at what was happening there, she realized why Lucero was so apprehensive about it.
From afar, she caught glimpses of the men and women working there. Most of them were skin and bone, with open wounds and blisters all over their bodies.
