Bobby was inconsolable in the emergency room. It no longer mattered that Esperanza had butchered Dallas’s hair, that Esperanza had accused Bobby of stealing the money Dallas had stolen. A mother had died. A child was born and they were all responsible for it. Consuelo was born with her eyes wide open and a smile of mischievousness that made the Colón family afraid of what they had gotten themselves into.

After Consuelo’s birth, Esperanza could no longer work the twenty-four-hour shifts at Mrs. Hernández’s house. Bobby’s heartbreak led him to stare at the computer he had built himself in his bedroom, where he worked and thought of nothing other than the needs of Consuelo.

—I need your help, Mami.

He explained to Esperanza that for the past year, he had been working with Ed, developing websites.

—But I thought—

—I’m sorry, Mami, I should’ve told you.

—But you could’ve helped me with the bills. What are you children thinking? All this time I was so worried…

—Help me with Consuelo, and I’ll take care of you. I promise.

—But we can give Consuelo back to her family. You have no idea what it takes to raise a child.

—I’m her family, Bobby said. —Consuelo is mine.

Esperanza rehearsed how she would tell Mrs. Hernández that she could no longer take the trip to the Bronx at night. That the agency was already looking for a replacement. Although Mrs. Hernández wasn’t always nice to Esperanza, she had become fond of the woman throughout the years and knew that while Mrs. Hernández didn’t admit it, she looked forward to their conversations before going to work at the laundromat.

Esperanza used her keys to enter the apartment and noticed that the lights were dim and the candles of San Lázaro and San Miguel were on. Mrs. Hernández was still in her robe, smoking a cigarette. Esperanza was afraid of interrupting her. She was more afraid of walking into a problem. She couldn’t handle any problems at the moment. She had been on very little sleep.

She had counted on an uneventful night with Mr. Hernández. But before she could turn around to take a breath, to prepare herself, Mrs. Hernández looked up and waved her to come closer. She didn’t look at her. Esperanza studied the doilies on the table, which Mrs. Hernández crocheted while she watched the novelas. She said she could tell the passage of time with each loop caught with her hands. She didn’t want time to pass without her making something of it. All over her house, her handiwork marked time, dressing her bureaus, lamps, tables.

—Ay, Esperanza, he didn’t wake up this morning, Mrs. Hernández said.

—Did you call an ambulance? Have you called anyone?

—No.

—Do you want me to call?

—Not yet.

—That’s fine, Mrs. Hernández. Why don’t I make you some coffee? Esperanza said as if it were just another day. —Maybe we should call the laundromat and tell them you won’t be going to work today, Esperanza said. —Let’s open up the windows to let fresh air in, if you don’t mind.