The caller continued explaining the circumstances, but his voice became distant.
How could Ana Clara be gone?
Only that morning, she’d kissed him goodbye and reminded him to finish assembling the crib.
Now someone was telling him she would never come home.
Marcos and Ana Clara had met eight years earlier while waiting in line at a bank.
He’d first noticed her when she stood up for an elderly woman who had been treated rudely.
Ana Clara had a warm laugh, but she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.
Marcos fell in love with her kindness long before he understood how much happiness she would bring into his life.
Their wedding had been simple.
There was no extravagant reception, just a family gathering filled with laughter, food, and relatives offering unsolicited advice.
