One day she saw two police cars come in. With them came some of the bodyguards she remembered from her father’s security staff. For a moment she hesitated, wondering whether to go out and meet them, tell them everything that had happened, but when she saw them go up to her father’s workroom in the tower and loot everything inside it, she hid again among the dolls. There, among hundreds of figures that looked into the void with glass eyes, nobody found her. They abandoned the lady of the house to her fate after disconnecting the machines that preserved her in her state of eternal torment. She’d been howling for days, but still hadn’t died. Until that day.

That day Death was visiting Villa Mercedes, and soon Mercedes would have the ruins of the house all to herself. She knew that everyone had lied to her. She thought her father was alive and safe somewhere, and that as soon as he could, he’d return to her side. She knew, because Alicia had promised her. She had promised she would find her father.

* * *

When she saw Death walk up the stairs to the entrance of the house and step inside, Mercedes became doubtful. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps that white figure she had taken for the Grim Reaper was only Alicia, who had come back to fetch her and take her to her father. It was the only thing that made sense. She knew Alicia would never abandon her.

She stepped out of the dolls’ pavilion and walked over to the main house. Inside, she heard footsteps on the first floor and ran up the stairs just in time to see the white figure go into the lady’s room. The stench filling the corridor was terrible. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand and walked up to the doorway. The figure in white was leaning like an angel over the lady’s bed. Mercedes held her breath. Then the figure took one of the pillows and, covering the lady’s face, pressed hard while her body shook with convulsions, until it lay still.

The figure turned around slowly, and Mercedes was seized by the iciest cold she had ever felt. She was wrong. It wasn’t Alicia.

Death, all dressed in white, approached her slowly and smiled. She offered Mercedes a red rose, which she accepted with trembling hands. “Do you know who I am?” she asked.

Mercedes nodded. Death embraced her with immense affection and gentleness. The young girl let herself be caressed, containing her tears.

“Shhh,” whispered Death. “Nobody is going to separate us ever again. Nobody will hurt us anymore. We’ll always be together. With Mommy and Daddy. Always together. You and I . . .”

3

Alicia woke up on the back seat of the taxi. She sat up and realized she was alone. The windows were steamed up. She wiped the pane with her sleeve and saw that they’d stopped at a gas station. A streetlamp projected a yellowish beam that vibrated every time a truck thundered past on the road. In the distance, a leaden dawn was spreading across the sky, sealing it without leaving a single crack. She rubbed her eyes and rolled down the window. A sudden gust of icy air pulled her out of her drowsiness. A stabbing pain ran through her hip. She let out a moan and held her side. Soon the pain subsided to a dull throb, a warning of what was to come. The wisest thing would have been to take a pill or two before the pain sharpened, but she wanted to stay alert. She had no other choice. After a few minutes, she saw the profile of the taxi driver emerging from the gas station bar, carrying two paper cups and a bag with greasy stains. He raised a hand to greet her and walked briskly around the car.