That night, after Adriana left, Ricardo went down to the garden where Mariana was picking up toys.
He helped her without saying a word for a few minutes. Then, without looking her in the eye, he said, « She thinks you’re taking up a place that isn’t yours. » Mariana stopped.
“And what do you think?” Ricardo looked up.
“I don’t know, but the children need you, and that outweighs any opinion.” That was the first time Mariana felt that something was changing between them. It wasn’t just respect; there was something more, something Adriana wasn’t going to like. And she knew it because the jealousy wasn’t just about the children anymore.
It was because of everything Mariana was starting to stir up in that house. That Saturday dawned with one of those days that makes you want to go out.
Mariana woke the children earlier than usual.
She dressed them in comfortable clothes and sneakers and packed a backpack with water, fruit, and cookies. Emiliano asked where they were going. Mariana just smiled.
To a place they didn’t know well. Sofía raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. They went downstairs in silence. Ricardo didn’t
She was there.
According to Chayo, she had left for a meeting early. That gave Mariana some space to move around. She walked with the children down the long hallway that led to the back of the garden.
There was a gate there that was always locked. Mariana had seen that gate since the first day, but she never dared to
ask. Until one afternoon Emiliano whispered to her that there was something fun back there, that his mom used to let them play there before everything else. The gate was rusty.
Mariana reached into her pocket and pulled out an old little key she’d found in a drawer in the tool shed. It fit perfectly.
The click of the lock was soft, but in her head it sounded like she was breaking a huge ruler. She opened it slowly. Sofía pressed herself against her side. Emiliano
She went in first. The space was a second, hidden garden,
wilder with long grass, crooked trees, a half-broken wooden house, a rope hanging from a branch, and an old swing, all covered in dry leaves.
But there was something special in the air, as if something good had happened there long ago. « What is this place? » Sofia asked softly.
Mariana crouched down in front of her. This is their place.
You knew it better than anyone. Emiliano started running.
Sofía stood still for a few seconds and then followed him. Mariana watched them play. There were no loud shouts, but there was laughter. Real laughter. The swing creaked, but it held.
Emiliano got on first. Sofía pushed from behind. Mariana looked
She found an old bench and sat down. She took out the juice boxes and put them on a blanket.
It felt like a picnic inside a giant house.
The children discovered a buried box and pulled it out with their hands. It was full of toys damp with age, but among them were photos, painted stones, and cards with drawings.
Sofia found one that said « Sofia’s Secret Club. »
And Emy. Mariana felt a lump in her throat.
“Can we rebuild the little house?” Emiliano asked. “Of course,” Mariana replied without hesitation.
Hours passed among branches, stones, dry leaves, and quiet shouts of excitement. Sofía found a broken doll and sat it in a corner of the little house. Emiliano placed a large stone as if it were a
Mariana fixed the roof with an old tarp she had in her backpack. It wasn’t perfect, but they wouldn’t get wet when it rained anymore. In the middle of all this ,
they heard footsteps, firm footsteps.
Ricardo stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the open gate. He walked quickly, his face serious. Mariana saw him coming, but she didn’t move.
No children either. Ricardo looked around silently.
The swing, the playhouse, the remains of the picnic. Then he spoke softly. « Who gave you permission to come in here? » Emiliano looked at him fearfully. Sofía lowered her head. Mariana stood up.
« I brought you here. This place belongs to you, and you needed to come back. » Ricardo pressed his lips together, turned, and looked toward the tree.
Large. There was a board there with the children’s names carved into it.
Lucía made this place for them, she said almost in a whisper. It was their secret corner. Mariana didn’t know whether to speak or stay silent. « And why did you close it? » she finally asked.
Ricardo took a while to answer because it hurt, because he couldn’t look at her without thinking of her. Mariana looked straight at him, and neither did they.
They could forget it if they were forbidden to remember it.
Ricardo stood still, then walked over to the tree, ran his hand along the plank, and sat down on the ground. Emiliano approached him. “Dad, can we come here every day?” Ricardo didn’t answer right away, then looked at him.
“Yes, but only if you take care of the place.” Sofia came over to him and gave him the club card.
A secret in her legs.
Ricardo looked at her, smiled slightly, and put her in his jacket. That afternoon, no one mentioned the word « forbidden, » no one closed the gate.
No one pretended nothing had happened because that place, full of dust and branches, had brought something that hadn’t been felt in a long time.
Freedom. That day, Mariana decided she wasn’t going to
She cooked alone, not because she was tired, but because she felt that cooking with the children wasn’t just an activity, but a point of connection. What started at 7:00 p.m., the kitchen stayed with them for the rest of the
day. And that day she had a different idea. In the morning she went to the market, without asking permission.
She told Chayo she was taking the children, period. Ricardo wasn’t there. Neither was Adriana. Chayo huffed, but didn’t stop her.
Mariana walked with the twins through the aisles of the San Ángel market. She let them play,
They smelled and tasted things.
They bought corn on the cob, sweet bread, fresh strawberries, Oaxaca cheese, and meat for enchiladas. Emiliano chose the tortillas.
Sofía found a small bouquet of flowers she wanted to take to brighten up the dining room. When they returned, Mariana let them help with everything. Sofía washed the strawberries as carefully as if
They were jewels.
Emiliano grated cheese and ended up with sticky fingers. Mariana cooked and sang an old cumbia that her mother used to play at home. The children didn’t know the lyrics, but they laughed when they heard it.
Around 7, Mariana set the table, but not in the kitchen as usual. This time it was in the large dining room, that
that no one used. She removed the old tablecloths and put down the placemats the children had decorated with markers and colorful napkins.
In the middle was the small bouquet of flowers Sofia had brought. Low lighting, the smell of warm food.
Ricardo appeared just as she lit the last candle. He stopped when he saw all of it. Mariana looked at him. « Are you staying for dinner? » He frowned as if the question were strange.
« Here. » « Yes, with us. » Ricardo hesitated.
Then he saw Emiliano come out with the water pitcher, Sofía arranging the forks, and he nodded. The four of them sat down. Mariana served the enchiladas and explained what they had made.
They chose all of this themselves. Well, except for the cumbia. Sofía laughed. Ricardo took the first bite and remained silent.
Mariana thought he hadn’t liked it, but he swallowed slowly and said, « It’s very good.
» Emiliano’s eyes widened.
Seriously. « Yes. » « Very good. » Sofía added more cheese to her enchilada. Dinner continued without any tension. Ricardo asked simple questions. How was the market where they had shopped if they had haggled?
Mariana noticed that he wasn’t talking like a boss, he was talking like a dad, like a normal man.
At one point, Emiliano said, “Dad, do you remember when Mom used to make alphabet soup?” Ricardo put down his fork and smiled, but that smile was half sweet, half sad. Yes, she liked hiding words.
She always wrote, “I love you in letters,” said Sofía. Mariana didn’t say anything, she just listened.
After lunch, they didn’t get up right away. Sofia wanted everyone to play a game. « Would You Rather? » she asked, using silly questions.
« Would you rather have a clown nose or duck feet? »
Ricardo laughed. « Duck feet. That’s much better. » Mariana had never seen him laugh like that before. It wasn’t a belly laugh, but a genuine, clear sound, like someone who had forgotten how to laugh for a long time. When the game was over, Mariana
She started clearing the plates, but Ricardo stopped her. « Leave him, I’ll help. » Mariana looked at him in surprise.
He was already carrying glasses to the kitchen.
Sofia clapped as if it were a feat. « Dad’s washing dishes! » Emiliano cheered him on. Ricardo, laughing, just said, « Everything’s different today, isn’t it? » And yes, it was, because this dinner hadn’t been planned.
It wasn’t a fancy dinner or a special event, it was just that, dinner, a table, food made with love, simple words, but for that house it was like a party.
Mariana watched as Ricardo dried a glass with a cloth, as Sofia arranged the napkins, as Emiliano closed the door.
She had dinner without anyone asking and thought that this moment, however simple, was just what this family needed to begin to feel like that.
Family, it all started one Sunday, one of those slow days when no one is in a hurry for anything.
Ricardo had gone for an early run. The children were busy in the playroom trying to build a fort with cushions. Mariana, meanwhile, decided to organize an old shelf in the
second-floor hallway. Not out of obligation, but because she had this habit of tidying up what others left behind.
She removed dusty books, loose papers, and unframed photos. Behind a stack of magazines, she found a cardboard box with a loose blue ribbon tied around it.
It had no name or label. It was hidden between a torn encyclopedia and a cracked vase. The box didn’t weigh much. Mariana took it to the
She took the notebook to the maid’s quarters, placed it on the table, and opened it.
Inside were simple things: birthday cards, a child’s drawing, a small bag of buttons, and at the bottom, a spiral notebook.
The cover was lined with black marker. « Lucía, just mine. » Mariana held it with both hands. Her instinct told her to close it, but something stronger told her to
She read it. She opened the first page.
The handwriting was beautiful, with round, clean letters. Lucía wrote the way she spoke; that much was clear. Nothing embellished, all direct.
The first paragraph was about her, vomiting her first baby food. Then it talked about Emiliano and his habit of hiding things in his shoes. Mariana turned the pages.
What she held in her hands wasn’t an ordinary diary; it was more like a kind of catharsis, a space where Lucía wrote down what she couldn’t say out loud.
There were entries about Ricardo, some sweet, others not so much. One said, « Sometimes I feel like Ricardo is here, but he isn’t. He looks at the children, but he’s thinking about his work or about her. » Mariana didn’t understand who she meant by « her. »
Was there someone else? Later, she found something that left her…
Frozen.
A torn page, but enough to read. A fragment. Adriana came again. She says she doesn’t want to separate us, but her gaze pierces me. I feel she hasn’t let go of Ricardo, even though he swears it’s my imagination.
Mariana closed her notebook for a moment, looked toward the door. No one saw her.
She opened it again. She began to read more closely.
Lucía recounted happy moments with the children, recipes she wanted to try, phrases she didn’t want to forget, but there was also a lot of weariness in her words, emotional exhaustion.
Doubts. One line read, « My body aches, but my head aches even more from thinking about everything I keep silent. » And then, almost at
Finally, she found another key phrase.
If something happens to me, I hope someone understands what I couldn’t say out loud. Mariana closed the diary tightly. Her heart was beating faster. It wasn’t gossip, it wasn’t morbid curiosity.
It was as if Lucía were speaking to her from somewhere else, telling her something no one else had wanted to see. Mariana put the
She kept a daily sketchbook in her backpack.
She decided not to say anything for now, not to Ricardo, not to Chayo, not to anyone. That night she couldn’t sleep well. Lucía’s words kept appearing in her mind as if they were her own.
She began to see Adriana differently. Every smile of hers seemed forced, every comment a disguise. And the worst part was that Ricardo didn’t
She seemed to realize it, or perhaps she didn’t want to.
The next morning,
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