how wrong he was.
Part 2
On Monday morning I woke up before the alarm clock rang. It was just after six. I felt calm, focused, with a clarity I hadn’t felt in a long time. Alejandro slept deeply beside me, occupying almost his entire half of the bed, his phone on the nightstand. I watched him for a few seconds and thought about how confident he had been. How certain he was that I would simply obey.
At ten minutes to eight I was at the train station in Mexico City. Doña Teresa stepped off the train leaning on a cane, dragging a large suitcase and wearing her usual expression of permanent disapproval.
“Gabriela? Did you come alone? Where’s Alejandro?” she asked without even greeting me.
“Alejandro has a complicated morning,” I replied calmly. “But don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
She pursed her lips but said nothing.
