As the months went on, their separation between meetings and sweats had become unsettling. It completely closed her off from her other life, the life which Rubén referred to derogatorily as “careerist.” She felt just plain sad and lonely about it. She wanted to share with him that part of her life. She needed to bring it all together, to consolidate the spiritual with the practical side of things. But whenever she suggested to Rubén that they have lunch again like they did that first time or to go out on a regular date in between meetings, he simply declined with no apologies, regrets, or explanations.

What was left of Caridad had been brought home after three months in the hospital. In addition to caring for Fe la Gritona (as her mother had begun to refer to her, although never to her face), it was Sofi’s main job to care for Caridad, or as stated more accurately above, what was left of her.

It was La Loca who took care of the horses and the other animals as well as helped her mother with preparing meals for her sisters. One evening, right after one of La Loca’s infrequent seizures, the miracle that Esperanza witnessed occurred. Sofi was tending to La Loca, who was on the living room floor, the tray with Fe’s carne adovada and green chili all over her, Esperanza standing nearby, and of course, all the animals that had given their perfunctory warnings just beforehand stood nervously around as well. Then movement in the adjacent dining room caught their eyes at once. Dogs, cats, and women, twenty-eight eyes in all, saw Caridad walking soundlessly, without seeming to be aware of them, across that room. Before anyone could react she was out of sight. Furthermore, it wasn’t the Caridad that had been brought back from the hospital, but a whole and once again beautiful Caridad, in what furthermore appeared to be Fe’s wedding gown.

“Mom?” Esperanza said, hesitating, but eyes still fixed on the empty space where Caridad had passed.

“Dios mío,” Sofi gasped. “Caridad.”

“Mom,” La Loca whispered, still on the floor, “I prayed for Caridad.”

“I know you did, ’jita, I know,” Sofi said, trembling, afraid to pull herself up, to go to the room where she suspected Caridad’s corpse was now waiting be taken care of.

“I prayed real hard,” La Loca added and started to cry.

The dogs and cats whimpered.

The three women huddled together went to the bedroom where Caridad was. Sofi stepped back when she saw, not what had been left of her daughter, half repaired by modern medical technology, tubes through her throat, bandages over skin that was gone, surgery piecing together flesh that was once her daughter’s breasts, but Caridad as she was before.