When doctors informed him that his wife had only a few days left, he bent over her hospital bed and, masking his satisfaction with a cold smile, murmured

“He’s worried,” she said quietly.

Lucía looked out at the city moving on outside.

“So was I,” she replied. “The difference is… I learned.”

She inhaled deeply.

The air felt different now.

The room was silent.

But it was no longer the silence of defeat.

It was the silence before a new beginning.