“He bought it for her.”
“With what money?”
There was silence.
Alejandro looked at the floor.
Jillian’s eyes widened.
“No.”
She already knew.
“You didn’t.”
Alejandro finally looked up.
“I sold my guitar.”
Jillian covered her mouth.
Elena started crying.
“No, Alejandro.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I don’t need the guitar.”
“You love that guitar!”
He shrugged.
“I love you more.”
The room became silent.
Jillian began crying too.
She walked over and hugged Alejandro.
“You shouldn’t have had to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
“We could never repay you.”
“You don’t have to.”
Elena wiped her tears.
“Can I see it?”
Alejandro smiled.
“Yeah.”
We opened the box.
The new chair was beautiful.
When Elena sat in it, she slowly pushed herself forward.
The wheel moved effortlessly.
She stopped.
She tried again.
Then she started laughing.
Not a nervous laugh.
Not a polite laugh.
A real laugh.
She rolled across the room and back.
“Look!”
Her mother laughed through her tears.
“I see you.”
Elena turned toward Alejandro.
“Thank you.”
He smiled.
“You’re welcome.”
I thought that would be the end of the story.
I was wrong.
Because the next morning, someone knocked on our door.
Not a normal knock.
