I broke into a house in Coyoacán to steal, but found a blind girl tied to a chair. She whispered, “Did my mom come back to sell me again?” I decided to steal her back instead. As we reached the front door, heavy footsteps echoed from the dark hallway, and a voice growled, “Who is in there?”…

by the fragile, trembling voice of a child.

I had breached this fortress of a house to pilfer, to snatch whatever discarded silver or unguarded electronics I could fence for a week’s survival. Yet, as my eyes adjusted to the ambient moonlight filtering through the heavy drapes, a chilling realization washed over my conscience. In that singular, heart-stopping continue reading …