She was curled beneath the coop, shivering, clutching her belly with both hands… visibly pregnant.
Doña Jacinta stepped back instinctively.
Then stepped forward again, guided by something stronger.
—Holy Mother… she whispered. Child, what are you doing there?
The girl tried to answer, but only a broken sob came out.
Doña Jacinta knelt down in the mud without hesitation.
—I’m going to get you out. Don’t be afraid. Slowly… that’s it…
It took effort, but she managed. When the girl stood, she staggered. Doña Jacinta held her gently, like a soaked bird.
—Come with me. My house is humble, but it’s warm. First, I’ll give you something hot. Then we’ll talk.
The girl cried silently.
Back inside, the rain seemed louder. Doña Jacinta wrapped her in her own shawl.
—Take off those wet clothes. There’s a dress in there. It’s not pretty, but it’s dry. And dry is already a blessing.
—What’s your name? she asked.
—Alma… the girl whispered.
When Alma stepped into the small room, something fell to the floor.
A folded paper.
Doña Jacinta picked it up carefully.
The ink was smudged, but still readable:
“If someone finds me, please don’t say anything. They are looking for me.”
She closed her eyes for a moment.
Then, without saying it out loud, she made a decision.
That girl would not return to the mud.
Not while she still had strength.
When Alma came back, she looked slightly less lost. Doña Jacinta placed a cup of warm milk and bread in front of her.
—Crying warms you too, she said gently.
—How many months?
—Seven.
—And who is looking for you?
Alma hesitated.
—The baby’s father’s family.
—And him?
—He doesn’t know… she said. They sent him to Europe. When they found out… they wanted me to get rid of the baby. Then they tried to buy my silence. And after that… the threats began.
The rain kept falling against the roof.
And what neither of them knew yet…
Leave a Comment