Mariana opened it.
“Mom’s box.”
Ricardo nodded.
“We add something every year.”
The girls each placed something inside.
Laura placed a ribbon.
Julia placed a drawing.
Sofia placed a photograph.
Beatriz and Bianca placed a cookie.
Everyone laughed.
Then little Isabela walked toward the box.
She was holding a photograph.
It showed Claris holding her when she was a baby.
Isabela kissed the picture.
“I remember Mommy.”
Ricardo’s heart broke and healed at the same time.
“What do you remember?”
“Her singing.”
“Anything else?”
“She smelled like bread.”
Everyone laughed through their tears.
Then Isabela looked at Luía.
“And Luía smells like cookies.”
The twins burst out laughing.
Ricardo smiled.
Later that evening, after the girls went upstairs, he and Luía remained in the garden.
“I used to think I had lost everything,” Ricardo said.
“You lost someone.”
He nodded.
“But I didn’t lose everything.”
Luía took his hand.
