When Pride Turns to Fear
While Ernesto toasted, Damián worked with Luisito in the shop.
The boy pressed sandpaper against a stubborn edge, frustrated.
“Don’t rush,” Damián said. “Wood doesn’t bend with force. Only patience.”
Luisito panted, then lowered his shoulders.
“I broke a lot of things by rushing,” Damián added softly.
The lesson stayed.
Magdalena tucked the summons with the other papers. Sleep would not come.
She worried about court, the children, her early shift — and most of all, what would happen if Ernesto fell and dragged them down with him.
Tomás woke for water. She held him until his breath evened and his mouth curved into a small smile.
“I won’t let you slip,” she whispered.
