“I’ve never even seen you with Gaspar. When your brother was all crazy and sick, he was always alone. Pablo and I were with him. Where were you? Who do you think you are? I don’t know what you were even doing. We’re his friends. I miss him, he must be missing me.”

Silence from the other end. Fucking old man, thought Victoria.

“You’re right.”

Well now, thought Victoria.

“But he’s my responsibility now. I’m taking care of him and his psychologist says that for the time being, in order to take care of him, the best thing is for him to get away. Not from you, but from everything that reminds him of what happened.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Child, give it time. He’s going to get better.”

Victoria hung up and went into her room. She had to go back to school the next day, but how she was going to do it, she didn’t know. It was high school, it would be different, and luckily it wasn’t a Catholic one anymore. She’d be going to a normal school where she didn’t know anyone, although some of the kids must know she was the girl from Adela’s house, and if one of them knew, they all would, eventually. She called Pablo. “I forgive you, get over here, but don’t give me any bullshit that’s gonna scare me, I’m already plenty scared. Aren’t you scared? What’s with you?”

“I’ll come over and tell you,” said Pablo.

What Pablo had to tell her was so simple and so horrible that Victoria wanted to call in her mother and ask her to fix it; she was an adult, she had to be able to change things and make them better. Pablo told her something that had only happened to him twice, but now he didn’t move from his room until the sun came out. If he had to pee, he held it; he’d brought in a bucket just in case. Never again would he leave his room at night. He’d gone to take a piss, as normal. In the hallway before he reached the bathroom, someone had grabbed him by the hand. And not a friendly touch. It had been a sharp yank, so hard he’d almost lost his balance, and the hand was hot and dry, fevered. He screamed, thinking someone was really there—the house was totally dark, and a thief could have broken in. His father got up, sent Pablo to his room, and searched the house, while his mother shouted at him: don’t act all macho, think of the baby, stuff like that. She even wanted to call the police, but in the end his father said no. He said he didn’t want to make a scene. He said Pablo was just afraid of the dark. And then he sent everyone back to bed.