SIXTY KNOTS IN THE THROAT FOR A SACRED OATH BEFORE THE FADED LIGHT AND A HIDDEN TRUTH

One, two, three tones.

-Well?

The voice on the other end froze him. It was raspy, dry. Yes, it sounded like Leticia, but there was something… a metallic undertone, a lack of warmth he didn’t remember, not even in his worst moments of grief.

“Doña Leticia,” Joaquín said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. “It’s me, Joaquín. I received your message.”

There was a pause. There was background noise, like heavy traffic or a television playing at full volume.