This was, perhaps, the hardest visit of my life. I stood in front of the sky-blue door for a few minutes. It was impossible not to compare the grandeur of the hacienda with the humble house that now stood in front of me; a house where, according to the rumors in town, my sisters were now living.

I rang the doorbell. A part of me understood that they might not open the door. After all, the last time they’d seen me—that horrible day at the hacienda where I’d disposed of my disguise—I’d left on less than amicable terms, one might even call them downright hostile.

The movement of the door startled me. So did the face in front of me.

I’d expected to see Catalina, even Angélica, but in front of me stood Alberto. It took me a moment to recognize him. He had shed off his cassock and was wearing gray trousers, a buttoned-up shirt, and suspenders. He looked so young.

I didn’t know what to expect from him. An insult? A sarcastic remark about the doomed plantation we’d fought over?

Instead, he nodded.

“Hello, Puri.”

He opened the door wider for me to come in. I hesitated before entering, but at least my long black gown was good for hiding the tremor in my legs.

The living room was a cozy combination of Angélica’s impeccable taste and Catalina’s discreet simplicity. There was a long, maroon sofa in front of three windows framed in oak wood. They were furnished with soft beige drapery, and there were plants scattered throughout the room. I noticed, without intending to, that there were no portraits of my father in sight.

Catalina stood upon seeing me and set her embroidery by her side.

There was something different about her, too. She no longer wore black. Instead, she’d picked a pink gingham dress with a belt that crossed over and buttoned in the front.

I greeted her first. She offered a coy smile. The silence between us prolonged for a few, unbearable seconds.

“Would you like something to drink?” Alberto said. “A fruit tea?”

“Yes, please.” I wasn’t thirsty, but I needed something to do with my hands, something to distract us from the tense silence.

And Angélica and Laurent weren’t even here yet.

“Any preference?” he asked.

“Whatever you have will be fine.”

“I’ll go get Rosita,” he said.

So they’d taken the cook with them. Well, I couldn’t say that I was surprised.

“Have a seat,” Catalina said.