A Voice in the Dark
One night, long after midnight, Alejandro sat in the library with a glass of brandy and a stack of untouched papers. The silence felt too heavy. Then, faintly, he heard it — a voice. It drifted down the corridor like a whisper carried by candlelight.
Lucía was singing.
Her tone was fragile but hauntingly pure, an old Castilian lullaby that once echoed in the countryside — “Duérmete mi niño, que viene el coco…” The song pierced straight through him. For reasons he couldn’t explain, tears stung his eyes. His mother had sung the same lullaby before she passed.
That night, for the first time in months, Alejandro fell asleep without medication.
