Alejandro dropped his backpack beside the stairs.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
He smiled.
Then he saw my face.
His smile disappeared.
“What’s wrong?”
I crossed my arms.
“Where’s your guitar?”
He froze.
It was only for a second.
But I noticed.
His eyes dropped toward the floor.
“Mom…”
“Where is it?”
He swallowed.
“I sold it.”
For a moment, I honestly thought I had misunderstood him.
“You what?”
“I sold it.”
My voice rose.
“You sold your guitar?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
I could see his eyes becoming wet.
“Please don’t be angry.”
That sentence stopped me.
I had been ready to lecture him.
I had been ready to ask whether someone had stolen it.
I had even been ready to tell him that selling something that expensive without asking us was irresponsible.
But now he was standing there looking terrified.
I softened my voice.
“Alejandro, just tell me what happened.”
He took a deep breath.
“There’s a girl at school.”
“Who?”
“Elena.”
I knew the name.
Elena had been in his class for almost two years.
She was a quiet girl who used a wheelchair.
I had seen her at school events before.
“Elena?” I asked.
