It was hard to explain what came over me. I didn’t know if it was my posture, still leaning back over my mother’s hand with my legs folded and my knees on the ground, or that I’d entered some sort of ecstasy like my mother called it later. But the truth was that my legs had turned numb and I was so lightheaded that everything started to move in rapid circles around me: Papá’s concerned face, Mamita’s teary eyes, the clouds above my head. Everything was spinning faster and faster and the voices—the prayers—became distant and muffled, as though I heard them through a tunnel. And then, everything turned black.

When I woke up, lying down on the grass, surrounded by my parents and the priest, something had changed. People looked at me with what I could only define as reverence. My mother was pressing a handkerchief with smelling salts against my nose.

“Out of the way,” my father was saying. “She needs to breathe.”

My brother helped me up and as soon as I stood, people made room for me to go through, as though I were some sort of queen. My father helped me down the trail and as I walked by, people touched my arms and shoulders. A woman even cut a piece of my hair.

“She smells like flowers,” someone said.

I searched for Elisa among the crowd, but I couldn’t find her. People crossed themselves as I walked past them, as though I’d turned into some kind of deity. I felt exhausted, physically and emotionally, and it was a relief to arrive back at the plantation. My father had to threaten those who attempted to enter his property. He’d already foreseen a scenario like this one and so his men stood in front of the gates by the dozens, some holding their machetes, others looking majestic on top of their horses.

My mother, with trembling hands, asked me if I wanted dinner. I declined; all I wanted was to lock myself in my room and sleep for hours.

In my room, I experience a deep sense of relief. I locked my door and headed for the bed.

“Hello, Catalina.

I screeched.

“Shhh, it’s me, Elisa.”

She emerged from behind the curtains, still wearing the blue cloak.

“What are you doing here?” I said, petrified. “My mom can’t see you here!”

“I know, I know, I just came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“Yes, we’re leaving. For good.”

I wasn’t sure who “we” were. I knew so little about her.

“Did you show your dad the doll?”

With all the excitement of the Apparition and the Virgin, I’d completely forgotten about the doll request. I could’ve lied, but lying was exhausting. I shook my head.

“Then I’m going to have to take it back.”

“No, please. I promise I’ll show him. Tomorrow. First thing in the morning.”