She sighed. “It will be too late then.”

Too late? What was she talking about?

“One day you’ll understand,” she said. “I have to go now.”

She turned to the window and disappeared into the night. That was the last time I ever saw her.

* * *

I kept my promise. I showed my father the doll the next day. His reaction was not what I expected.

“Who gave you this?”

“A girl.”

“Where is she?”

He seemed desperate, his eyes wide, his fingers pressing on my shoulders as he squeezed me to get an answer. Normally, he didn’t care about anything other than his precious Pepa de Oro, which was why his reaction surprised me so much.

“I don’t know, Papá, you’re hurting me.”

He let go.

“She said she was leaving forever.”

“Do you know where she was staying?”

“No.” I collected the doll before he would take it. “Who is she? Why did she want me to show you the doll?”

“Because I gave it to her. When she was small.”

“Why?”

He was about to say something but seemed to change his mind.

“Tell me!”

“I will, but only if you tell me the truth. Is it true that the Virgin came to your room?”

I squeezed the doll’s cushioned skirt. We were in his study, where I rarely came—we kids were not allowed in here. My father was sitting behind his desk where he’d been writing in a leather-bound notebook.

He rubbed my arm. “Come on, ma petite poupée, it will be our secret.”

“If I tell you, will you make it stop?”

“Make what stop?”

“The pilgrimages, the praying.”

“I promise. Now tell me. Did you see her?”

I bit my lower lip, then shook my head. There was a strange flicker in my father’s eyes. For a moment, I thought he was going to strike me, but instead, he started laughing. It was a hoarse laugh; one I hadn’t heard in years.

“But why would you make up such a thing?” he said, tears in the corner of his eyes from laughing so hard.

“It wasn’t intentional, Papá, I never wanted this to happen. Elisa came to my room once and Mamita heard us. It was the only thing I could think of so she wouldn’t find her there. She doesn’t like her.”

My father leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“Yes, I know.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?”

“To tell me why you gave that doll to Elisa.”

He cleared his throat. “Not a word to your brother or your sister. Understood?”

I nodded.

“Elisa is your sister.”

“What? Why doesn’t she live with us? Why does Mamita hate her?”

“Because she has a different mother than you. She lives with her.”

“Like Purificación, your daughter in Spain?”