The classroom at Benito Juárez Elementary still smelled of chalk, glue, crayons, and orange peels from the children’s morning snack.
Outside, boys were kicking a soccer ball against the courtyard wall, shouting with the careless happiness that childhood should always have.
Inside, Miguel could hear only Sofía’s breathing.
For weeks, he had watched the brightest child in his class slowly disappear.
She had once filled every notebook margin with horses, flowers, dogs, cats, and imaginary veterinary clinics.
She told everyone she would grow up to heal animals because animals never lied and never laughed when someone was scared.
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