Daniela looked at him. He was pale, jaw clenched, as if part of him wanted to defend her, and another part wanted to hear the answer.
Lucía started crying.
Teresa pretended to be gentle.
—Oh, my girl, don’t cry. If everything is fine, there’s nothing to be afraid of.
Daniela kissed her daughter’s head.
—She isn’t afraid—she said calmly—. She just feels when a bad person gets too close.
Murmurs spread immediately.
Teresa set her glass down.
—Be careful with your words, Daniela.
—I’ve been careful for a year—Daniela replied—. Not anymore.
Daniela didn’t come from that world. Her parents owned a small stationery shop in Portales. They worked their whole lives with dignity but no luxury. Teresa had judged Daniela from day one—her shoes, her bag, her way of speaking.
