“Yeah, let’s go in, Dad, it’s really hot out here,” said Pía, not so much excited as imploring a resolution.

“Okay,” said their father. “We’ve come this far, what’ve we got to lose?”

They rang the bell on the intercom, and there was no Who is it? or Can I help you? from inside; the door simply opened.

After so many hours in the sun, the darkness inside blinded and disoriented the father for a moment. When he could see better, he realized right away that the inside of the house was also suspicious. Its original structure had clearly been altered. Where the living or dining room should surely start, there was a wall, a thin partition put up to create more offices. He felt ill at ease in the gloom of a small false foyer that allowed a steep staircase as the only possible path. The floor was of gray stone, the only element that seemed to have resisted the changes. The worst part was the silence. Too much silence. Not like a place where people were working. And there he was, cornered, with his daughters. Halfway between the front door and the staircase, with no one to receive them or to ask what they wanted.

The father lifted the girls onto the second step and knelt down in front of them. He took a deep breath, looked up at them. They both smiled back at him.

He immediately looked away. Poor things, he thought. He could never meet their eyes; that’s why he had to “act the clown,” as his wife said. All this time that he’d been forced to spend with them lately, it had been overwhelming. They were always there, wandering around the house, waiting for him, demanding things from him, depending on him. Nothing ever seemed to disappoint them, but he hid in his room because he couldn’t even meet their eyes. The truth is, he didn’t know who they were: Who was the better student in school? Which one didn’t like salad? Which one hated taking baths? Who was afraid of the dark? His wife talked about them in bed, but he couldn’t retain anything. He’d become a father very young. Too young. Accidentally and without preparation. And he had responded by going along with it. Doing his supposed duty: face up to it and forget about himself for a time. Leave aside his plans and projects like a half-eaten apple. Work. He’d spent all his youthful energy on working, without questioning it much. Leaving a great unknown between him and what his life could have been if he’d invested time in his own dreams. Without ever finding out if he could have conquered the world.