—Yes —Luna replied—. But my dad says that when someone truly listens to you, you shouldn’t forget.
Santiago felt his throat close up.
Marisol glanced at him sideways. The fierce hatred of that day in the parking lot was gone. There were still scars. There always would be. But there was also something new: peace.
The four of them left the supermarket with the bags in their hands.
Mateo was asleep in Santiago’s arms. Luna walked between him and his mother, holding each of their hands as if she could verify that they were both real.
And under the soft light of the afternoon, without grand promises or perfect speeches, Santiago finally understood that there are fortunes that are built too late, but still save lives.
Not the fortune of money.
The other one.
The one about staying.
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