That night Valentina returned with designer bags and a radiant smile.
—Mom, I bought you a beautiful scarf. Try it on.
The emerald green silk felt soft, but to me it looked like a snake. I held it to my neck, feigning gratitude.
—Thank you, daughter.
When I went up to my room, I felt his gaze following me, suspicious. As if he could smell my secrets.
The next day I woke up before dawn. I put on a simple gray dress, tied my hair up, and went downstairs trying to look normal. Valentina was in the kitchen preparing a pot of herbal tea.
—She got up early, Mom. I made her some tea. It helps her relax.
The scent of chamomile and mint used to calm me; now it made my stomach churn. I picked up the cup, pretended to take a sip, and put it down.
—It’s hot. I’ll drink it in a bit.
Valentina smiled, but her shoulders tensed for just a moment. A tiny detail… like a wire stretching.
I lied: I said I had an appointment with Mrs. Soto from the book club. I took a taxi. The whole way I clutched my purse as if it held my life.
La Sombra café was hidden in a narrow alley. Inside, it smelled of roasted coffee and old newspapers. I saw him in the back: a thin man, his back to me, next to a window with vines.
My heart stopped… and then it ran.
When he turned around, I recognized him even though he was thinner, with deep dark circles under his eyes and a small scar on his forehead. His eyes were still my son’s.
-Mother…
I threw myself into his arms. I cried like I hadn’t cried even at his funeral. I touched his face, his arms, his warm skin: flesh, not a ghost.
“Where have you been? Why… why did you do this to me?” I demanded between sobs.
Elias closed his eyes, as if he were swallowing stones.
—Forgive me. I… I couldn’t come back sooner.
He sat me down. He lowered his voice.
—Mom, I need you to answer something. What did Valentina tell you about the night I “died”?
I told her what she had repeated to me for two years: a party on a yacht, alcohol, “he jumped in,” “I saw him sink,” “I couldn’t save him.” Every phrase burned me.
