That night, when we were finally alone in a huge bedroom, Celia closed the door with trembling hands. Then she placed a thick envelope and some keys on a table.
“It’s your wedding gift,” he told me. “One million pesos and a truck.”
I smiled nervously and pushed the envelope back.
—I don’t need any of that. With you, I’ve already won.
Then she looked at me in a strange way. Sad. As if she were about to break.
— Son… I mean, Efraín … before this goes any further, I have to tell you something.
I felt a chill.
Celia slowly removed her shawl. And when my gaze fell on her left shoulder, I froze.
It had a dark, round moon with an irregular edge.
The same.
In the same place.
The same mark that my mother had always had on her collarbone.
I raised my hand, trembling.
—That mark… why do you have it?
Celia closed her eyes and took a step back.
The air grew heavy. The room stopped feeling like a suite and began to feel like a trap.
“Because I can no longer remain silent,” she whispered.
And when she opened her mouth to tell the truth, I understood that she couldn’t believe what was about to happen…
PART 2
I didn’t sit down. I couldn’t.
Celia did. She slumped down on the edge of the bed as if the years had suddenly fallen upon her.
—Twenty years ago —he finally said— I had a son.
First I felt strangeness. Then anger. After that, a kind of fear that tightened my chest.
—And what does that have to do with me?
She looked directly at me.
-All.
