Somewhere in the hardened features of the man standing in front of me, I could see the softness of the teenager I’d once loved. But I couldn’t recognize him anymore. It was the saddest feeling I’d ever had, a sense of loss that was indescribable.

“It’s been too long,” I said. “You were gone for too long.”

“I had to.” His voice softened a notch. “But I never forgot you.”

A couple of years ago I would’ve said the same thing to him, but I couldn’t now. Not when I was standing in front of a stranger. Oh, why did he have to come back now when I’d already forgotten him?

“Go back to your rich friends, to your fancy new beau.” He turned to leave. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

CHAPTER 23 - Puri

CHAPTER 23

Puri

April 1920

My father’s grave was exactly where Don Pepe, the caveman, had told me—in the heart of the plantation, where he’d asked to be buried. I hadn’t been this close to my father’s body since I was two years old. And yet, I’d never been more distant.

“Hola, Papá,” I said aloud, not finding a better place to sit than on top of the grave where he rested. “I hope I’m not squashing you.”

Someone had brought him hyacinths, but it must have been weeks or months ago because they’d dried completely and drooped hopelessly into a sea of dead petals.

Strange. The grave was so close to the house. Why wouldn’t anybody visit? Were they this resentful about the will?

I brushed the petals onto the ground.

“Well, I’m finally here,” I said, “trying to sort out the mess you left.” I looked around me. The tree branches seem to lean over me to listen. “I wish you wouldn’t have raised such greedy children. Well, one greedy child.”

I ran my fingers over my father’s engraved name.

“Not only greedy, but evil.” That was the only adjective I could use to describe what they’d done to Cristóbal.

I’d been thinking about my siblings last night. Catalina seemed incapable of any bad deeds. So she smoked. That only meant she wasn’t perfect, or the town’s saint, like everybody claimed, but simply human and as such, flawed. Alberto, well, why would he want to kill me when he’d renounced his fortune? And besides, why would he need money in the seminary? Unless he was planning to get out. I couldn’t help but remember our conversation about good vs. evil. Was there something I wasn’t seeing? So far, the only person who seemed capable of harm was Angélica. After all, she had a snake in her room; a snake who happened to find its way to my bed.