Azeneth can't believe what she's seeing.

  She is perched on the bed, trying with all her might to drag Eugenio closer to her, lamenting she doesn’t have enough strength.

  Apparently, the bracelet Carlota gave her has protected her from the three dogs that came out of nowhere to attack them.

  But it protects only her.

  Ferocious, the animals try to snatch the man away, pulling him mercilessly, fitting their teeth into his legs, tearing his skin apart in the attempt to take him and splattering her with blood. They're huge dogs.

  She wishes he was totally unconscious so that he wouldn't suffer, but faint moans escape from his mouth.

  How did you end up here, in the dirty bed of a stranger whom you try unsuccessfully to save? Is this why you wanted to stay with the Evans?

  But that doesn't matter now...

  How are you going to get out of this mess?

  She has spent the last few days trying to convince herself that she's not useless, but the situation isn't helping her much.

  Fear has clouded her head and frozen her limbs. The dogs begin to win the battle.

  And Carlota? Where is she?

  She is about to call out to her when, as if reading her thoughts, she runs in. She stops short at the door and stifles a scream when she sees Eugenio. She jumps on the sheets and it seems that the two bracelets together are enough to keep the dogs away from the bed.

  Azeneth asks her, in a thin voice:

  ―What's going on?

  ―Toutas is a bastard and now we're in trouble!

  ―And-

  ―Don't ask me about Silvana.

  Azeneth throws her head back, bewildered. Carlota answers the unpronounced question:

  ―She's dead, obviously.

  The dogs bark furiously, but they don't come close.

  They are joined by the barking of more dogs approaching, like a swarm.

  They come with him, surely.

  Toutas finds them both on the bed, the sheets swirling covering Eugenio's body. He seems incredulous that they continue to protect him.

  ―I'm not angry yet, but if you keep getting involved, you're going to regret it ―he warns, pointing to them.

  ―Go away now! You've already taken Silvana. You've had enough.

  ―No, I haven't had enough. And those bracelets may keep my dogs away, but we'll see if they resist me.

  He has been slowly approaching them, with a barely visible and repulsive smile.

  Azeneth hopes Carlota will do something, but looking at her worried face and heavy breathing, she could swear she's just as scared as she is herself.

  A noise interrupts them.

  Someone is knocking on the front door.

  They all remain silent, bewildered.

  The knocks are heard again.

  Even the dogs, which were growling and barking menacingly and prowling restlessly around the room, have stopped.

  Carlota looks at the door, and as if she could see through the walls and knew who was out there, she murmured:

  ―We really couldn't have been less lucky...

  Azeneth looks at her and then looks at Toutas, who also seems disturbed by the call, which stops being heard after several attempts.

  The front door is far from them, and yet the silence is so great that she seems to hear the bolt open.

  Only a few seconds pass when a figure peeks out from the hallway.

  ―Who called me?

  It’s Atálaro.

  He arrives with a smile, which vanishes as soon as he sees Toutas.

  "And now he still must be close."

  Atálaro points to Azeneth.

  ―It was you, wasn't it, lady? I heard you say my name, and luckily, I remembered your smell ―he smiles and then looks around the room exaggerating his displeasure―. But what crap is this? What trouble are you getting into?

  Toutas turns his back on him. He stands motionless, as if waiting for Atálaro to address him.

  ―Toutas, Toutas, what has become of you? Nothing good, huh? What miserable shit have you become?... Ha, have you let them put a seal on you? What an asshole...

  ―You're interrupting ―the other replies. He's angry. Keeps turning his back on him and standing in his place.

  ―Oh, really? I’d say YOU are interrupting my business, as I came because I have been called ―he turns his attention to Azeneth, whose skin crawls when she feels his gaze on her―. Is this poor asshole bothering you?

  ―She called you by mistake. We don't need anything from you ―Carlota says rudely.

  ―Oh, Carlota, sorry I didn't say hello, it's always a pleasure to see you, I swear, it's just that I'm a little confused... I don't know if it's my imagination, but I have the impression that you are in trouble... at least that wreckage of man in which you are perched does not seem to be having a good time.

  ―The man belongs to me, don't get involved ―says Toutas, interrupting him.

  Azeneth realizes that the spirit, which seemed so dangerous to her a few minutes ago, seems to be intimidated. Despite his obvious anger and tense jaw, his voice trembles slightly.

  ―That? ―Atálaro mocks Eugenio, pointing at him, and Azeneth couldn't find his disdain more disagreeable―. What's that, Toutas? Have you become a scavenger? Poor you. If this is your life now, you should go back to the ground you came from. You just crawl and drag these poor flea dogs with you. Look at them, they cause pity, throw them a bone or something... So what? Aren't you going to look at me, coward?

  ―No, I'm disgusted by your face. You don't deserve what has made you an egomaniac. You think that I crawl through this world and you crawl in the debris of human vanities. And you must be smiling now. If I could rip that damn mouth off of you-

  ―But you can't.

  Toutas tilts his head a little, holding back from turning.

  ―... They’ve already told you they don’t want anything from you... Go away... There's nothing for you here. That man is mine, his last breath is mine and they are also mine because they have interfered in my deal.

  ―Deal? ―Atálaro is surprised―. Are you meddling in a deal, Carlota? Hasn't Victor taught you well? ―he shakes his head, disappointed―. That man... you would be better with me than with him...

  ―We got into his deal because he's messing with our clients, I can't allow that.

  ―Oh, no? And what are you going to do, then?

  ―She's going to die ―Toutas replies.

  ―Oh, no, no. Come on... Carlota, beautiful, and little lady whose name I don't know yet: Could you have a little common sense and stop meddling?

  ―It's too late for them. I'm going to-

  Suddenly, an invisible force attacks Azeneth and violently pushes her out of bed. Her back crashing into a closet makes her arch in pain, and Carlota's sharp blow falling directly to the ground doesn't seem any better.

  She then remembers that Carlota told her Atálaro had powers very similar to Victor's.

  It’s he who speaks next:

  ―See? They have already gotten out of the way. All yours, Toutas. Hurry up, he’ll die soon.

  ―No! ―Carlota shouts, trying to get up.

  ―Carlota, Charlotita, fool. This man is almost dead, his soul is almost detached from his body. His life essence has been exhausted, it can no longer bind them together.

  ―But... ―Carlota says no more, she sits on the floor, with her fists clenched.

  ―Is he really dying? Or do you say it just to convince us? ―Azeneth doesn't know where she got the courage to speak to him.

  Atálaro looks at her, almost appreciating that courage.

  ―Does it matter?... See, if you cherished your life, you'd already be running away from here.

  ―I didn't say I'd let them go ―Toutas interrupts―. They've gotten into my deal. I'm going to-

  ―Aggg, I’m sick of your fucking deal. I'm being kind to you by letting you keep what's in that bed. It's fair if it's what you agreed to. But you don't touch the ladies, you understand? Not now or ever.

  Toutas finally turns to him, his eyes filled with hatred. Atálaro doesn’t let him say anything.

  ―What? Are you going to oppose it?... You won't, will you?

  Carlota had told him that Atálaro was dangerous if you messed with him, and now Azeneth wonders how much, so that Toutas didn't lift a finger to challenge him and his bracelets didn't stop him from throwing them in the air as if the dolls were them.

  After an awkward silence, Atálaro concludes:

  ―Now, if you excuse me, we'll leave. Ladies, let's go.

  Seeing that none of them moves, he repeats, with a bow of his head:

  ―I said we're leaving ―he turns around and Azeneth feels that force again lifting her up , as well as Carlota.

  Toutas stands, trembling with anger, humiliated perhaps. He doesn't even turn to look at them when they walk away.

  Eugenio lies on the bed. Azeneth doesn't have the courage to see him one last time, but at the limits of her vision she can make out his silhouette between the sheets.

  There's a man in that room who's about to be killed. Death. She enunciates this phrase in her mind and it seems unreal.

  And while she is pushed towards the exit of the house, it seems that she is waking up from a nightmare.

  She trips and is dragged until she can get up.

  She stops resisting when they walk through the door, so Atálaro lets her go. Carlota continues to be dragged to the gate and still a couple of meters more, even when she has also accepted her withdrawal.

  ―Leave me now! Leave me! I'm not going to try to go back!

  ―You'd better obey me. Don't go near that house until tomorrow when Toutas is gone ―he says and free her, with a gentle push that makes her fall to the ground.

  There she stays, curled up. She is furious and her pride is the only thing that prevents her from bringing out the tears that are already appearing against her will.

  Azeneth remains standing, giving Carlota a few minutes to calm down, not knowing what to do.

  From there, the house seems quiet. The sky is clear and is such a vibrant blue that the white construction stands out to the eye. She wonders what their visit would have been like if Toutas hadn't been there. She imagines the fresh water and the piece of cake that Carlota was talking about to her when they walked there. Perhaps Silvana would be a hospitable woman and Eugenio would have a good mood and an optimistic countenance. Perhaps there would be movement of workers in the corrals. Perhaps the aforementioned brother Feliciano would be around and also be introduced to her. Perhaps the family would talk for a long time with Carlota, who was good at talking to people, and she would listen to them sitting around, enjoying a little human contact. Perhaps the house would have life.

  The dogs following Toutas must be inside the house. And she can't see where Silvana's body could be. Inside the corral, maybe.

  Atálaro is still there, talking to Carlota.

  ―Shit, cheer up! I saved your lives. And it was a favor, I'm not asking you for anything in return. Do you know how many people I've saved as a favor? Not to brag, but I can count them on the fingers of one hand ―he turns to Azeneth―. Do you see how she thanks me?

  ―Why did you do it? ―Azeneth asks.

  ―I'm not going to let that bastard take away my chance to have a deal with Carlota ―he turns to her―. I hope you speak well of me to Victor, eh? ―returns to Azeneth, while pointing to Carlota―. Look at her. Such a cute creature dying in that stinky room in the hands of that wretched thing? What a waste. She was born for bigger things, right? Hahaha ―she gets the impression that he says it sarcastically.

  ―Ehhh... you know... why did Toutas want that man's last breath?

  ―Ah... it's just... gluttony. We... we live from the energy of things ―he says, formally―. We are like little plants, which photosynthesize, with spiritual energy instead of light. And the energy of humans is delicious. And their last breath, a bomb, a delicacy. For beings as mediocre, as disconnected from the world as Toutas, this delicacy is one of the few joys that this material world can offer. Pitiful, if you ask me ―he pauses his explanation to observe her―. Ha, you're a curious lady. That's good ―he gets serious―. You are still trembling. Don't be afraid... You haven't told me your name.

  Atálaro seems terrifying to her. Not because he did something in particular, he certainly didn't do anything, he spent all this time bragging and with one hand on his trousers pocket and the other holding his jacket over his shoulders. Nor because of what Carlota told her about him, since she was brief in explaining his nature. He isn’t even physically imposing, he is actually short in height, his body isn’t big and his features are common. Simply, his presence is terrifying to her, as much or more than Toutas. There is something ominous about him that she cannot explain. However, she doesn’t feel in danger.

  ―Azeneth.

  ―Nice to meet you, Azeneth, you already know my name. Call me whenever you need to. Next time, saving your life will come at a price.

  He hands her his jacket, impeccable and smelling of expensive perfume:

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  ―Take care of it a little bit, please.

  He approaches Carlota and lifts her up, holding her by the arms.

  ―Come on. Come on. That's enough!

  ―Why didn't you save him too? ―she reproaches him.

  ―Toutas said there was a deal! And I am a being with reputation. And ultimately, because I don't want to. You don't believe me he was almost dead, do you?... What wasn't obvious? You just had to look at this thing on the bed...

  ―Stop talking like that about him! You disgust me! He was fine! He was just dehydrated! And the cancer got him a little thin... but he was going to recover! Have a bit of respect! It’s great that beings like you don't have to deal with the ills of the body, but we humans do and he did it with dignity!

  Ignoring without consideration what Carlota has said, he only answers:

  ―In fact, he's already dead, he's dead right now... Why didn't you save him? Why didn't you save that woman in the corral? Do you think I didn't see her when I arrived?... Ah, you couldn't, did you?

  ―If you hadn't arrived... maybe I would have found... some way...

  ―Hahaha... The last time I saw you I thought: "How much she has grown!", but you are still the same little brat as always hahaha... Go on, come back if you want, to see if there is still anything left of him that you can save.

  ―You would have seen them... Silvana before... and Eugenio... and now... ―she finally gives in to tears― I can't get the image of him out of my head... there... in the- in bed...

  Atálaro seems to be amused by everything, and he lets her go roughly.

  ―Well, today you learned something new. You, always willing to help, are not going to be able to save everyone, and don't be so foolish as to believe in sacrifice. Always save yourself.

  Carlota takes a few steps back, wiping away her tears, embarrassed.

  Without saying a word, she begins to walk towards the road.

  ―I’ll accompany you. May be one of those dogs walk around here yet-

  ―No! Go away! ―Carlota yells at him.

  Azeneth has no choice but to run to catch up with her. She looks back, to take one last look at the house and to Atálaro, who stands still, holding back the urge to laugh and only waving goodbye to her.

  Carlota advances quickly, almost running, she a few steps behind, trying to keep up with her.

  Should you comfort her?

  What could you say?

  What if you only make her angrier?

  She's vain, maybe flattering her...

  ―I wish I could be as brave as you... and... you said it was you who made Silvana change her mind, I don't know how you did it, but it was amazing...

  ―It didn't help. I only managed to get him to kill her.

  ―... I'm sorry for not being helpful.

  ―You looove to apologize... It's okay, I saw you very helpful with Eugenio, something is something...

  If you had been able to do something else...

  ―I bet doctor Victor will be proud that you at least tried. You're his niece, after all.

  ―Oh, come on. "His niece". You should already know that, right?

  ―What?

  ―That Victor is not my uncle.

  ―Oh, no?

  ―Oh God, no. My mom gave me to him a few years ago, so that I could do something useful with my powers. I didn't even know him. And we're not the Evans. Nothing is true. He's not proud of me, I'm a burden that was thrown on him and that's it. At least, now he has someone to cook for him.

  There is something in Carlota's vulnerability that moves her, and at the same time she can’t tolerate the rudeness with which she speaks to her, and she can think of nothing else to say. She regrets not being used to dealing with people. She gives up.

  ―Your bracelet ―she is about to take it off to return it, but Carlota tells her:

  ―Keep it. If you're going to keep sticking with me, you're going to need it.

  ―Oh... I understand. Thank you.

  She stares at the bracelet on her arm as she walks. Her gaze shifts from her hands to her clothes. Her overall is splattered with blood, and she is dirty of dust and sweat. Carlota is covered in dust too and doesn't look any better than she does.

  ―Carlota... hey... look at us... Won't they tell us anything when we get on the bus?

  Carlota stops, not understanding. She turns around and they’re face to face.

  Then turn down toward her legs. One of her knees bleeds, as a result of the stretch in which Atálaro dragged her on the ground.

  ―Do I look as bad as you?

  ―I think worse.

  Both look at each other.

  Azeneth raises her hand to her face to remove the hair that has stuck to her forehead, and inadvertently touches her scar, which is no more than a thin, bulging line above her right eyebrow.

  Carlota, maybe by inertia, does the same, touching her own scar, on her left eyebrow.

  ―Like a mirror ―she murmurs, realizing that they have even raised the hand in which they wear the bracelet.

  Azeneth smiles, because she found her comment witty.

  Although us could not be less alike.

  Carlota is also smiling.

  She shakes her clothes a little.

  ―Well, if they ask, let's say that we were chased by dogs, which is not far from the truth.

  ―Ok.

  ―Let's go.

  *

  Years before, when Carlota was not yet Carlota Evans, and her favorite hobby was running around in the community cemetery and talking to the spirits that inhabited it.

  She used to hide in a small and elegant mausoleum that belonged to a marriage. The woman had died before Carlota was born, so she only knew her from the anecdotes she was told. The man was the wealthy owner of the fields that covered as far as her sight allowed her to see and that made up her world, since her mother worked on that family's estate. He had died three months earlier, and Carlota had good memories of him, who was always kind to her and provided her with attention under the argument that her mother was a trusted worker in the house.

  In the mausoleum, which seemed to her like a toy house, dwelt the spirit of this man.

  She visited him and they talked for long hours and played together, even though he remained in a corner, in the shadows, and their games consisted of Carlota playing alone and explaining her dynamics to him so that he would give her his opinion. The girl felt more comfortable playing with him and some other spirits of the cemetery than with the other children on the estate, who sometimes treated her as weird.

  One of those afternoons when she went to visit him, she had taken papers and crayons to draw, but in the end, she changed her mind and dedicated to making paper ships.

  ―Ships again? Why do you make ships if there is no water nearby for you to put them to sail? ―the spirit said to her, in a dry, cracked voice.

  ―They're going to sail in the air! Can you? Please, please!

  ―Well, well ―he said, and suddenly the ship Carlota had made rose into the air, causing her to laugh.

  ―Would you like to sail a real ship?

  ―I'd like to see them sail. I would like to see the sea... or at least that mom takes me to the river again...

  ―Ah, the river... They say water feels good when it crosses your fingers... Do you like water?

  ―Yes, yes, a lot! But only for a while. If I spend a lot of time in the water then... very ugly swirls of things are made in my head... water has many of those images that stick to me... Oh no, I really have some swirls that scare me, really... but anyway, it doesn't happen as long as my hands don't touch the water...

  She lay dramatically on the ground as she spoke, at the foot of the two graves.

  ―It's a gift, don't be afraid of it.

  ―I'm not afraid of it! No more than once in a while, a little bit. Just like that ―she said, making a sign with her index finger and thumb.

  ―And are you afraid of me?

  ―No! Why? Well, you gave me a scare the first time I came. A scare of surprise, not a scare of fear because I hadn't seen that you were here.

  She realized that someone else had arrived because a shadow blocked the sunlight coming through the door. It was the shadow of a man, who was standing at the entrance of the mausoleum.

  Carlota sat up, leaning on her elbows to see the tall, pale man who peeked inside and stood motionless at the sight of her. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers.

  She stands up.

  ―Oh, sorry... Are you coming to visit them?

  But he didn’t pay much attention to her, as he turned his attention to the corner of the mausoleum where the spirit was sitting.

  ―Can you see him? ―Carlota was surprised, who thought she was the only one who could.

  ―Yes, you too?

  ―Yes!

  ―Is it bothering you?

  ―No! No! I know him, it's him! ―she said, leaning carelessly on the tombstone of the owner of the estate.

  ―It's not him.

  ―Yes! It’s his spirit.

  ―It's not.

  ―Yes! I know this because he tells me things about when he was alive.

  ―He's stealing the memories of the corpse that lies down there ―he said, pointing to the grave on which Carlota was leaning.

  ―Oh...

  ―The spirits of the dead don’t exist. You will never be able to talk to someone who has already died. It's cheating on you.

  ―But... do the other spirits in the cemetery also lie?

  ―Yes. They're looking for your attention.

  ―Mmm... ―she turned to the corner, still hesitating―. Not true, right?

  But the spirit didn’t respond and Carlota's heart broke a little.

  ―Did it do something to you? What did it tell you? ―the man asked calmly.

  ―I haven't done anything to her, I'm just looking for company ―said the spirit, which had become almost invisible, as if hiding from him.

  ―He hasn't done anything to me ―Carlota confirmed, but she said it sadly, still thinking about the lie.

  ―Cemeteries are not places for you.

  ―But I like to come ―she turned to look at the spirit, to reproach him― Why did you tell me lies? I would have been your friend even if you weren't Don Ignacio...

  The spirit rises, turns around, and disappears behind the wall, without saying a word and without saying goodbye.

  ―In cemeteries many like them gather. Most of them are harmless, but don't trust them ―said the man who had already entered the mausoleum and was arranging the flowers he carried in the pots next to the graves.

  Carlota surrounded him, curious.

  ―Did you know Don Ignacio and Do?a Genoveva?

  ―Yes.

  ―What's your name?

  He didn’t answer.

  She lay on her back on the woman's tombstone and took one of the newly arranged flowers.

  ―If you can see spirits, can you also see with your hands?

  The man stopped.

  ―Seeing with your hands?

  ―Yes. Like this: you take the flower and touch it and you see the woman who sold it, on the road. And I see you carrying them in... it's like a bus station and... ―an invisible hand snatched the flower, which floated even into the man's hands, who placed it back in the pot. She didn't flinch, she was used to these things.

  ―It’s rude, to delve into people's lives.

  She turns to rest her head in her hands.

  ―It was just a flower.

  ―You also have to respect plants, and everything you touch. You have to be responsible with your powers.

  ―Oh, I understand ―she replied, nodding vigorously―. So you're not going to tell me your name?

  A scream, pronouncing her name, interrupts her.

  It’s her mother, who looks out over the mausoleum.

  ―For God's sake, where are you?! Why haven't you returned home? Don't you see the storm that's coming?... ―she noticed the man, who was still arranging the flowers―. Are you bothering the man?

  ―No! No! Ma', he can see them too!

  She ran to her mother, excited.

  ―He is teaching me to be responsible with my powers ―she repeated the words that had been said to her, solemnly.

  ―Let the man pay respect to the dead in private. Don't interrupt people in the cemetery again, you know what I mean?

  ―Yes.

  ―Now pick up your stuff and let's go now. And apologize to him.

  ―She's not bothering me ―the man said, standing up and cleaning his hands.

  Carlota then assumed that she didn’t have to apologize and ran to her bag to carry her crayons and papers. She was turning her back on them, so she was surprised when she heard her mother's voice say:

  ―Can you really see them?

  ―Yes.

  ―She says... the spirit of Don Ignacio lives here.

  ―That was what the spirit made her believe... Does the girl often come to the cemetery?

  ―Yes, sometimes daily, why?

  ―Don't let her do it so much anymore. It’s important that she does not disconnect from humans.

  Carlota, who had thought the man was very nice, changed her mind. Who was he to tell you what to do?

  ―Ahhhh, I see her very connected to humans, she has many friends ―from the tone of voice, Carlota figured that her mother had also been upset.

  ―That’s false ―she denied it, not realizing that by saying that she was proving the man right.

  He proceeded to ignore them. He picked up the papers that wrapped the flowers, and remained silent for a few minutes, in front of the graves.

  Carlota felt that she had to keep quiet too, and she understood why her mother reprimanded her for not giving privacy to the people who came to the cemetery. She stood up, walked up to her mother, and pulled her by the skirt, signaling that she was ready to go.

  But now it was her mother who didn't seem to notice that she was interrupting something.

  After a while, the man turned around.

  His visit was over.

  ―Excuse me ―he said to the mother, who was stuck in the doorway.

  She didn't move and told him:

  ―Wait, please ―before saying anything else, she turned to her daughter―. Didn't I tell you to go home?

  ―But-

  ―Go now, I'll catch up with you later.

  Carlota didn't want to leave without listening to the conversation, but she had already tempted her mother enough and knew when to obey, so she ran away.

  The sky was already clouding over when she left the mausoleum, and the unpopulated path back to the estate allowed her to see in detail the parade of dense black clouds approaching. The wind blew hard and raised the smell of the grass in the field.

  By the time she reached the houses of the field's employees, she had almost forgotten about the strange man she had stumbled upon in the mausoleum. She entertained in the corrals, as one of the pigs had just given birth, and one of the employees let her in to see the little pigs. She lingered too long and wasted more time than she should, so she ran home, knowing her mother was going to scold her again for being distracted.

  The smell of wet earth already announced nearby rains when she entered her house, which was nothing more than a large room where she lived with her mother.

  The mother was already there, packing some things in a backpack. She didn't look angry.

  ―Look! ―Carlota took out of her bag one of the little ships she made a while ago―. Don Ignacio- well, the spirit that lives in the mausoleum made it sail in the air. Like this ―and imitated the movement of the ship with her hand.

  ―Here ―her mother handed her the backpack. She ran from here to there in a hurry looking for more things.

  Carlota rummaged through the backpack and saw her personal documents and clothes.

  ―Let’s go ―she took her by the hand and led her out of the house.

  Something, in the childish mind of her nine years, sensed what was happening.

  But it would be impossible, wouldn't it?

  ―Where are we going?

  ―I'll tell you soon.

  ―Ma'.

  ―Walk quickly, we're getting late... Oh, I didn't bring an umbrella, the rain is going to catch us.

  The mother took the road to the nearest town. She was almost running. Lightning could be seen on the horizon and announced with thunder the arrival of the storm clouds, which were already stalking the estate.

  By sheer luck they ran into some acquaintances in a truck who gave them a ride.

  They got off at the entrance to the town. When she realized they were walking towards the bus station, Carlota stopped in her tracks.

  ―Ma' —she repeated, because she wasn't going to ask the question.

  The mother stopped, crouched down in front of her, sighed, and said:

  ―You've always been very smart, haven't you? You know what's going to happen.

  Carlota knew it, and that's why she burst into tears.

  ―I don't want to, ma’.

  The mother grabbed her head and kissed her on the forehead.

  ―My dear, don't cry. He's a doctor, he's very good, you're going to learn a lot. And it will only be a little while. Just a little while. Then you're going to come back here.

  Liar.

  ―You don't even know him.

  ―I swear he's very good... You have a gift. God gave you that gift, and you have to do something useful with it. He's going to help you with that.

  Carlota tried to run, but her mother took her arm.

  ―Where are you going to run? Huh? Where? There's nothing there ―she pointed to the direction Carlota was going to take―. To the cemetery? To keep flying ships? There is nothing there. There is nothing. We are alone. And when you grow up you will understand this is the best thing I could do for you and you will thank me. Now wipe your face and move, his bus is about to leave.

  The man, who introduced himself as Victor, hadn’t spoken to her since her mother left. They were sitting together on the bus that had not yet started the travel. The rain started suddenly and hit the window glass hard.

  She kept crying, but she tried to hold back, because her mother told her that if she made a big fuss people were going to start asking questions and she didn't want them to think that the doctor had kidnapped her.

  She was very sad because she liked living there, and she was scared because she was thrown with a stranger, and above all, she was very angry. Too angry. She knew she had been born by accident and she had ruined her mother's life because she had heard it from some employees, and although she didn’t quite understand what they meant by "she had ruined her life”, she imagined that it was a bad thing, so now she thought that her mother took the first opportunity to get rid of her.

  When the bus finally started and left the town, she saw her on the road, soaked.

  They quickly left her behind.

  Her crying and rage were so big that her effort to restrain herself made her tremble.

  She felt the man's gaze on her.

  She turned and they looked at each other.

  The man put his hand on her head and said:

  ―Rest.

  And everything went dark.

  Carlota never saw her mother again.

  Nor did she set foot in a cemetery.

  *

  When they finally return home, Victor's office has the "closed" sign on. The doctor, when he doesn’t have appointments, often goes out to visit patients, or to do things that only he knows, or simply locks himself in his study in the basement.

  ―What bad luck, I left my keys in my bag... and I forgot it in that cursed house. Stupid Atálaro, I didn't have time for anything.

  Out of habit she turns the knob on the door, and to her surprise it’s open.

  When they enter, they hear noises in the office.

  ―Victor! Are you there? ―Carlota shouts, without getting an answer.

  They approach the noises, and find Victor behind the curtain, tending to someone on the stretcher. There is a trail of blood on the ground.

  ―Oh, sorry, I didn't know that-

  ―Get ready, I need help here ―he says, without turning.

  ―What happened? ―Carlota asks, getting a little closer.

  On the stretcher there is an unconscious man. Azeneth has already seen enough blood today and prefers not to get close.

  ―They have left him here, just like that. Someone left him at the gate of the backyard. He has been shot, several times.

  ―But why didn't they take him to a hospital?

  ―His clothes ―Azeneth replies, who is actually thinking aloud.

  The man has a prisoner's uniform.

  ―Oh, did he escape? What if they shot him because they were chasing him? Will he be dangerous?

  ―I need you to bring... ―Victor has turned to give Carlota directions, but he is speechless when he sees them.

  Azeneth tries to comb her hair a little and Carlota just looks at him with embarrassment.

  ―Something happened... there...

  ―Are you okay?

  ―Yes.

  ―Eugenio? His family?

  ―No... Maybe you should go there, but there's not much you can do anymore. It was a spirit. A residual one.

  ―I'll go as soon as we're done with this. Clean yourself first, hurry up.

  ―Yes!

  Azeneth watches in perplexity how Carlota runs into the house. Her defeated attitude has faded. She even seems a little excited.

  The doctor's hands are full with a scalpel, poking in the man's chest, trying to find a bullet. With his other hands he moves him a little, to see better. Blood drips from the stretcher and spreads across the floor.

  For the first time, Azeneth does not hesitate for a second to speak.

  ―Is there anything I can do, doctor?

  ―No, go rest.

  ―I want to help.

  Her words mean something else, something that Victor understands, as he stops and turns to her, who continues to speak.

  ―I'm going to take your advice. I'm going to leave her inside me, if that allows me... to take advantage of it.

  ―Fine. We'll talk about that tomorrow.

  ―Ok.

  ―Now go and clean yourself, and when you are done, bring a boat of water. Hurry up.

  ―Yes!

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