“She can’t come!”
Ricardo froze.
Then Luía entered.
She didn’t touch Julia.
She sat on the floor.
“Julia.”
The girl looked at her.
“Look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Luía breathed slowly.
“In.”
Julia tried.
“Out.”
Again.
“In.”
Again.
“Out.”
Slowly, Julia’s breathing stabilized.
Ricardo watched.
When it was over, Julia fell asleep.
He looked at Luía.
“How did you know?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I stayed.”
Ricardo looked at his sleeping daughter.
That was the lesson he had been avoiding.
Sometimes there was no solution.
Sometimes you simply had to stay.
PAGE 7
Months passed.
The house changed.
Not dramatically.
Not perfectly.
But slowly.
Laura stopped pulling her hair.
Julia learned breathing exercises.
Sofia stopped wetting the bed.
Isabela began speaking again.
The twins still caused trouble.
That part never changed.
One morning, Ricardo found his office completely covered in paper.
“Beatriz!”
