It’s dusk, that same day. The Evans house is in complete silence. Carlota and Azeneth aren’t there and no customers have appeared. Victor takes the opportunity to clean the office.

He’s just beginning when the noise of the front door opening tells him Carlota has returned. He stands still for a moment, waiting to hear her come in and shout his name.

But he doesn't hear anything.

Footsteps approach the office. They stop at the door. Victor is behind a curtain, where there is a stretcher. He doesn't need to peek in to realize that's not his niece.

He turns his head disapproving and starts mopping.

―Come on. You know who I am, aren't you going to come to say hello?

Victor continues on his thing.

―Isn't your pretty niece at home? Too bad. She would be happy to see me, right?

―Don't go in without knocking.

―Ha, be thankful I walked through the door... Come on, Victor, I'm disgusted to see you scrubbing floors, come and sit with me for a while. Don't be rude, I had a hard time finding you. You hide more and more. But you never stray too far, I can always sniff out those stinky wings.

Victor stops, resigned, and pulls back the curtain.

A young elegant man wearing a zoot suit looks at him, smiling haughtily.

―I won’t talk with you, Atálaro. The answer is always no. You can go now.

―Not always, my dear, not always ―he sits on the padded bench next to the desk―. Someday I'll come here, or wherever you've run, and you'll be waiting for me, to ask me for help. I swear to you ―he speaks playfully, but his voice is menacing and deep.

―I doubt it.

―... and you'll want to make a deal, and your name will be mine... You know those wings aren't going to last you forever, right? When they wither, you're going to want more. It always happens... Aren't you interested in knowing why I'm so insistent on you? ―Victor is silent, so he replies―. Because you’re so arrogant, and the most prims are the most pigs. We're going to have fun together, I assure you. You won't miss those wings at all.

―You look for those who are like me, because it lifts your ego when they fall at your feet. You're just like humans ―he replies, turning around to ignore him.

*

The car drove away as Carlota and Azeneth approached the entrance of the Evans house.

―Remember, not a word of what happened.

―Yes... but I...

―Not even Victor. Unless Solum... Ah! And from what you saw Solum did-

―That's what I wanted to ask you about, it was a little far away, but what I saw-

―Don't ask anything. You didn't see anything.

Azeneth doesn’t answer her, but stops walking.

―What? ―Carlota asks her.

―Nothing, nothing. I didn't see anything then ―she nods, reaffirming.

―Good.

Carlota opens the door and her skin crawls when she sees Atálaro at the entrance of the office, on the other side of the corridor, a few steps away from her.

―Carlota! Look how much you have grown!

―Ah, it's you ―she says dismissively.

―I perceived your smell approaching. I'm glad to be able to greet you- Oh! What has happened to your head?... Victor! Why don't you take care of the child? It almost ruined her beautiful face!

He approaches her.

Carlota feels the urge to step back, but she knows Victor won't let him get close, so her pride plants her in place on the doorstep.

And indeed. The man can only take one step forward when something stops him. He smiles, resigning himself.

―You were leaving ―Victor says behind him, arms crossed.

―Yes, yes, yes. I'll come to visit again one of these days, just to say hello. And if not, you know how to find me Victor. So do you, Carlota. This man is bitter but surely you and I can have a good time.

―No, thank you.

―And your friend? ―he turns to look at Azeneth.

―Don't involve her in this ―Carlota steps aside and with a gesture invites him to leave.

Finally he leaves, and when he passes by Azeneth, he stands in front of her and looks at her confused, then his mouth opens in surprise and exclaims:

―Ah! But there are two. The offer is for both of you ―he says, winking and staring at her.

Azeneth cringes slightly, intimidated.

But Atálaro doesn't insist, he leaves the house, crosses the gate and without turning around walks towards the end of the town.

Carlota says, in a bad mood:

―Hahhh, he'll be back soon. We must recognize his perseverance. From all of them, he's the one who fucks up the most ―but she doesn't give any explanation to Azeneth, because she's talking to Victor.

*

Years before, when Azeneth had just turned twelve, her heart, as usual, played tricks on her and made her lose her first days in Secondary school.

The next day she could finally enter classes, but all her enthusiasm had vanished. She had spent all the summer vacation telling herself this new stage would mean something good and new, but there was her illness, ready to remind her that she would always be the weak girl who could never be less than three blocks from a hospital. She would enter her classroom and probably everyone would already know why she had been absent and she could already imagine the looks that would be directed at her, and she could already see coming that classmate who would pitifully offer her his notebooks to catch up on his notes, and also that classmate who would make a bad joke about her pale and drooping face, and she already imagined the retrograde teacher who would tell her there are no excuses to miss classes, that even if her house could be burning down, she has to show up...

The good news is that she had finally been put on the donor waiting list, but she had so little hope of getting a new heart, so she was sure she would die waiting for it. Besides, if you received one, it means that someone had died, right? No one can donate a heart and then walk out of the hospital very fresh.

You will die then. You will die like everyone else, but your sentence is already written.

She thought about that as she looked out the window of her room. Her room was the only place where she felt safe. The streets frightened her. She didn't quite understand why, since it didn't make much difference if she had an attack in the street or in her room, if she had her phone at hand, the ambulance would arrive at some point. But the street seemed like a hostile place, which increased her chances of feeling bad. On more than a few occasions, a bad scare had ended with her on a stretcher.

In her room, however, everything was under her control.

Well, but it wouldn't be for long.

Days earlier, when she returned from the hospital, she found her things set aside and a bunk bed piled up at the end opposite her bed. Her siblings, the twins, were old enough to sleep without their parents, so she would start sharing the room with them. It was going to be a disaster, and it would break the harmony that she worked so hard to achieve and she protected religiously, but she loved them very much and could sacrifice a little of her peace to hear those shrill laughter in the mornings, so she didn’t object. You can keep that harmony with them inside, right? It will continue to be your safe place, from which you hate to leave. At least your bed is the one by the window-

You hate to go out, and you crave it at the same time. You lock yourself in your room but look anxiously out the window at the life that is slipping away from you.

And that's how you wanted it.

You don't have the courage to step on the street on your own. You go out to school, for one errand or two, and you run into your room, as if your heart were forbidden to stop as soon as you walk through that door.

Because your heart is the excuse, you disguise your fear of living out there with your fear of a death inside you.

Her father entered the room.

―How are you doing, little doll? Ready for tomorrow? ―he tried to put enthusiasm into his words, but her father was the most apathetic man she had ever met.

―Good, dad. Ready.

―That's good, how about a walk? We'll go together, huh? Are you up for it?

-

Why did it occur to your father that it was a good idea to have this conversation in a public park?

―... and everything will be almost the same as before. I’m going to visit you and your brother and sister. Your mom will always receive her pension for you. I will go to your check-ups with the doctor when I can, and as soon as I find a good house you can come and visit me whenever you want... it's even good, isn't it? This encourages you to go out more.

Azeneth knew she would never see him again. Or she had a feeling about it. Or she deduced it.

She was already old enough to realize things. Of the multiple problems at home. Of the lack of money. Of the blows and screams she heard when they thought she was already asleep. That she feared not only the street, but the rest of her house when he was drunk or when she was angry. That all those problems caused them to raise their siblings neglectfully. That her illness is more of a burden for her parents than for her. Of the bitterness with which they looked at her.

She knew he wasn't happy with them, that she wasn't part of the life he wanted.

She knew he would run away as soon as he could.

The park was a concrete slab with hardly any trees and a few benches. Grey. There were more people in the park, each one going about their own business.

Will they all be as unhappy as he is?

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

As me?

She began to cry.

Her father became uncomfortable. Maybe he already realized it was a bad idea to bring you here. He gave her a brief hug.

―Well... I understand you will need your space to assimilate it, right? I'll leave you here... to... you know... clear your head... and that.

And he leaves you alone, crying in a park surrounded by unknown people. Is that why you want to go out on the street?

But people didn't seem to care much. Some looked at her with curiosity and, after a few seconds, continued on their way.

Ah, surely it's true. They are also unhappy. Although she saw some laughing.

Could she at least learn to pretend like them?

A grey park of unhappy people.

*

The next day Gustavo's funeral mass is held.

Azeneth attends accompanied by Carlota.

She was not at the wake, nor will she attend the burial, and in the church she remains at the back, away from the coffin.

She feels the body lying there is not her grandfather, just as that firefly locked in the jar that Azael was holding that night wasn’t either. But she attends the rite because it is what is expected of her.

She isn’t only there for that. At the end of mass, when she can no longer postpone it, she looks for her mother. She finds her outside, in a corridor behind the bell tower, smoking.

―Mom?

Her mother doesn’t turn to look at her, but she extinguishes her cigarette.

―You deigned to come... How are you?

―Good.

―From your heart? Are you taking the medicines?

―Yes, every day.

―Fine.

―Sorry for not going to the hospital.

The mother shrugs.

―Tomorrow we'll go back. I can't miss one more day or I'll be kicked out of work.

―Can I stay a little longer?

―Now you ask my permission?

―... I needed to step away a bit. It has made me better. I'm better. I won't do anymore... what I did before... I'll be back before the vacations are over. I promise.

The mother raises her eyebrows, takes a deep breath and thinks for a long time.

―Your grandfather called me, every two or three days, to keep me informed.

―I'm going to send you a message every day. You can talk to Dr. Victor as well.

―Every day, Azeneth.

―Aha. Thank you.

They remain silent.

―I'm very sorry for what happened to my grandfather. I really regret it.

She still doesn't look at you. She knows it was your fault.

―He was already an old man... Go water his plants, from time to time... I don't know what we're going to do with that house... rent it, maybe...

―I also wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what happened... between us.

―People are already leaving, aren't they? I'm going with the Priest.

She turns her back on her.

―Wait.

―What?

―I know he gave you the money.

Her mother stops. She turns, crossing her arms, still avoiding her gaze.

―... Well, with the years of pension that your father owes...

Azeneth summons up the courage. She has saved a couple of things to tell her.

―I... I know it's very difficult to take care of me, I know I’m a burden... and I'm trying... to not being that weak person I was, I no longer have excuses to be one. And don't think that... I'm not thankful for all you've done for me... And yet I think I'm never going to forgive you for what you did... I should... going to the police to report you or something... I do not know. But I don't have the courage to do it, and if I did, it wouldn't change anything... so... from here on out... I just want us to forget about that.

Please say that I’m not a burden. Please, I know that I am, but if you say...

Look at me, I left my room, I traveled alone. I will take care of my problems.

The seconds of silence that her mother keeps before answering seem eternal.

―Let's forget everything then...

―... Ok.

―Now I'm leaving.

―Just one more thing... Are my siblings okay?... Are they afraid of me?

―Oh come on, they ask for you every day. Don't be dramatic. They’re fine, they stayed with their godmother these days. I'm going to greet them on your behalf and tell them that you'll be back soon... And-and about what I did... What did you want me to do? You were dying, Azeneth... I did what I thought was best for you... And that's it, I'm waiting for your messages. Take care of yourself ―she leaves, almost running.

Azeneth watches her walk away, with a bittersweet feeling in her chest.

She turns around as well, and walks down the corridor to the entrance, where Carlota must be waiting for her, probably impatient.

She runs into a woman, who seems to recognize her and stops her by gently taking her arm.

―You're Gustavo's granddaughter, aren't you?

―Yes.

―My deepest condolences. Have you seen so many people yet? Here in the town we love him very much.

―Yes, I realize. Thanks a lot.

She bows hert head deferentially and makes a gesture to walk away. But the woman continues to speak.

―Hey, watch out for Dr. Evans. I knew you're staying with him.

―Eh, thank you... I'm fine with the doctor.

―Don't give him so much confidence. That man has claimed several lives, that's why we are afraid of him here.

She is used to hearing rumors from the doctor frequently, but this woman looked at her seriously, with genuine concern and an unsettling look, she didn't seem to just be gossiping.

Azeneth stands still, confused. She doesn’t want to confront her, or give her her side, or ignore her.

A voice behind her interrupts them.

―But madam, the one who owes nothing fears nothing, right?

It's Solum.

The woman looks at him with disdain.

―Ah, one of his servants has arrived. Watch out for these, too.

And she leaves, giving Azeneth one last warning look.

―That's why ―Solum says, pointing to the woman― the doctor didn't come to Don Gustavo's mass, because those ladies were going to see him badly.

He is the same as when she met him. Despite the fact that a day before he had been...

―... She said the doctor had claimed several lives.

Solum shrugs and looks up, thinking. Then he tilts his head towards her and whispers:

―He does what he has to do...

―That means... yes...

―I wish we could fix this world by talking, right? ―and he smiles, sadly, continues to speak in a low voice―. He hasn’t killed anyone who doesn’t deserve it or who doesn’t need it. But even so, even if they deserve it, those people have someone to mourn them... that woman, for example... I don't blame those who hate him, their reasons will have...

Azeneth looks away, uncomfortable. Not because she disagrees, as she has not yet put her ideas in order, but because of the calm with which Solum speaks to her about the subject.

―I don't blame you for making that face either ha ha ―he pauses, as if waiting for Azeneth to say something, but she has nothing to say―. Yesterday... that we went to the mine, I didn't want to tell the doctor because I already knew he was going to want to get rid of those who threw people into the well, and well... I'm not very enthusiastic about how he fixes things either ―he turns down, looking at his feet―. But the people who died there... because they died there, you know? They didn't throw corpses to get rid of them, they threw people alive to die there, otherwise the door wouldn't have been formed... So, I talked to the doctor a little while ago. In other words, I have already signed the death sentence of whoever is doing that.

Azeneth has little understanding of the mine's situation, despite hearing them talking about the subject when they traveled back, because they were all scandalized and their words were confused. But what surprised her most about that afternoon was seeing, from a distance, a coyote emerging from Solum's inert body...

―Ehhh, regarding yesterday-

―Oh, yes! That's why I was looking for you! Hey... would you mind not tell anything about what you saw? I'm sure Carlota has already asked you for it but... I wanted to tell you that it's very important to me if you keep the secret for me.

―... Azael... He has a pet...

Solum lets out a laugh.

―That's what he says, only when I let myself put the leash on ha ha ha.

She puts the pieces together as much as she can. For example, she realizes Solum and Parca are the same and, therefore, it was he who accompanied them to the door that night, and the whole story of the new door makes a little more sense to her.

―... I heard Carlota say that you said that door in the well... it was your mother.

Solum clicks his tongue and twists his lips, uncomfortable.

―Ahhh... did I say that? I don't know what I said... Look, the door that's there in the well, started forming on any given day a few years ago... I don't know... 15? 16? And I was born that day, I was born of her, even though I was born of another mother somewhere else, I was born to take care of that door when it's finished. I was born from all those deaths. I was born for that, that's how it is. Now I know. And now you too, but you shouldn't tell anyone.

―Is that bad?- Sorry... it’s just... I mean, you looked very distressed that day... I don't know... if you're okay.

Solum looks at her. He smiles after a pause. His brown eyes turn into a warm line.

―I'm fine, thank you. I just have to get used to the idea a little and that's it. It's something new for me, that's everything. I'll be fine... ―he shrugs his shoulders again and changes the subject―. And you'll be okay? I've found out a little bit about what happened to you.

―Oh, yes, I'll be fine too, thank you.

―Trust the doctor. He helped me control the transformation, what you saw happen there in the mine... It used to happen to me all the time. And now, with this ―he stretches the collar of his T-shirt, to show a rare black circle on his chest―, with what he put on me, I'm doing better. If he puts one on you... well, it hurts a lot, I don't recommend it ha ha ha.

It seems that every time he laughs, he does so with honesty, as much as yesterday his anguish was genuine. She realizes that what she mistook for egotism that night she met him is only a slight naivety.

And you haven't answered his request to keep the secret, but you don't know how to respond that you will do it without sounding out of place.

Before she can say anything, Carlota appears.

―Azeneth! Ahhh! There you are! You took a long time and I was scared... Oh, Solum, baby! How are you? ―she takes him by the shoulders and squeezes him a little―. Are you okay? You left me very worried.

―Don't call me baby ―says the other, laughing―. Look at me, I'm fine.

Carlota takes his face and turns it from side to side, looking at him incredulously.

―We have to meet soon, I have many questions to ask you.

―Agggh, give me a break, everyone asks me things, I should have stayed like a coyote for a while...

―Hey! Understand us! You can't drop a bomb like yesterday's and then walk around today as if nothing happened.

―What else can I do?... Azael treats me as if I was terminally ill, even Olegario is kind! He started cooking and cleaning and didn't let me move from the bed... but I ran away as soon as they went to work. I came to say goodbye to Don Gustavo on behalf of the three of us, in honor of the days when he gave us milk sweets when we helped him water his plants.

―Those sweets! Where did he get them?

―It's a mystery!

Azeneth knows where, but she doesn't want to interrupt them.

Yesterday Solum was a bundle of anguish, and days before Carlota was a bundle of frustration. And now both are laughing and rubbing shoulders with fraternal complicity.

They seem happy, after all.

Suddenly something inside her, close to her heart, becomes soft and warm.

*

Days later, near the abandoned mine, a pickup truck approaches in the middle of the night. In the box, two people are tied up.

One of them, a man, is unconscious. The other, a woman, waits sitting there, trembling. She doesn’t know where she is, because the night is closed and one of her eyes cannot see because of the blows she has been given.

When the truck slows down, she startles.

―Rubén! Wake up! Are you there? Rubén, for God's sake! ―she whispers to the man next to her.

She pushes him as best she can, because her hands are tied.

Rubén reacts. He opens his eyes but cannot move or speak.

She tries to turn inside the truck, where two men are traveling, but she can only see their black silhouettes.

The truck stops. Her heart could be stopped by fear.

Rubén tries to speak.

―What? What are you saying?... Rubén, Rubén we are... My God, we're here... They are going to-

A dull explosion is heard inside the truck, like something viscous that bursts.

Screams. Screams of a single man.

The sound of a door opening and the screams are heard louder.

She doesn’t dare to move an inch, as if immobility made her invisible. She stands still, only her chest rises and falls rapidly.

The screams slide out. A terrified voice screams.

―ENOUGH! STOP IT! WHO ARE YOU?!

Shooting.

The screams don’t let up. They intensify.

―WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!

―Who do you work for? ―a second voice is heard, a little distant.

The voice is calm, but strong. He speaks softly, but she can hear him clearly even in the distance.

Silence.

―Who do you work for? ―the voice repeats.

The noise of something breaking.

The screams return, accompanied by groans of pain.

―We call him El Gato! We call him El Gato!

―What did they do for you to bring them here?

They? Is he speaking about you?

―Their son... he got into trouble with El Gato... we're just giving him a scare... Do you know him? To El Gato?... Everyone knows him... If you know him, you know you shouldn't mess with him, you bastard... He's going to find out that you were the one who grabbed us and... ―a heart-rending scream prevents him from continuing.

―El Gato will be dead tomorrow. You are now.

The dull explosion again.

A long silence.

The woman waits, like a statue, until is sure she no longer hears anything. She dares to move a little, she does her best to peek out, fearful, where the noise is coming from.

Next to the truck, a body with a shattered head lies on the ground.

She turns a little more.

There is a man a few meters away from the truck. The lights are in front of him and dazzle him, so she can't make out the features of his face.

In the background, the silhouette of a mine.

She doesn't see his face, but she knows he's looking at her.

―Go away ―Victor finally says. He turns and walks away.