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?”…

Milagros turned her unseeing, clouded eyes vaguely in my direction. “You do not possess a wicked heart,” she decreed softly.

A bitter, humorless chuckle threatened to escape my lips. “You know absolutely nothing of my character, kid.”

“I do,” she insisted, her tone carrying the absolute certainty only a child can muster. “Those harbor malice… they possess continue reading …