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?”…

did she lean forward, drawing a deep, investigative breath through her nose.

“It lacks warmth,” she murmured, her voice a reedy whisper devoid of accusation.

“I apologize, little one,” I replied, the words catching in my dry throat. “It’s all I could find.”

A ghost of a smile, fragile as spun glass, flickered across her pale, dirt-smudged face. “But it continue reading …