At my wedding, I saw my father-in-law put something in my champagne glass… so I switched glasses and smiled.

came the hospital doctor.
And behind the doctor… Arturo.
Alive.
Pale. Weak. But conscious.
With one hand bandaged by an intravenous line and an expression that was no longer one of power, but of absolute defeat.

We were all petrified.

The commander spoke first.
“Mrs. Rebeca Villaseñor, Mr. Arturo Villaseñor, we are going to need you to accompany us.”

Emiliano continue reading …