His voice came out low and hoarse, as if the word had been buried somewhere deep inside him.
Doña Soledad lifted her head slowly.
Her eyes widened.
“Alejandro…”
She tried to stand.
Her legs shook so violently she nearly collapsed again.
Fernanda stepped forward quickly.
“Oh good, you’re home early,” she said with forced brightness. “Your mother insisted on helping with the cleaning again. I told her she didn’t have to—”
“Stop.”
The single word cut through the room like glass.
Continue on the next page:
