Chapter 4;

Dan stood at the dressing mirror, admiring his own reflection with the quiet satisfaction of a man who had never once wondered if his wife was happy.

"The apple pie was amazing, mi amor (my love). I really enjoyed it." He tugged his collar. "Pass me my blue tie will you."

Kate didn't answer she just stood by the window, staring at the cracked sidewalk below. The blue tie hung limp in her hand like a dead snake.

"Huh? What… oh, your tie." She handed it over. Her fingers were cold and her eyes were empty.

Dan turned, reading the tension in her face but already deciding not to engage. Marriage was a long course in selective blindness..

"What is it, mi amor (my love)? You don't like my outfit? I can put on the gray one that you like. The one that makes me look like a senador (senator)."

"It's not the suit." Kate's voice was a thread about to snap. "It's Lucia. She's changed, Dan. Ha cambiado mucho (She's changed a lot). I can't get through to her anymore. I think I've lost control over my own daughter."

Dan sighed like a man who'd rather fix a tie than a family.

"You worry too much. Our daughter is growing up. She's fine. Stop inventing problems." He patted her shoulder. The pat of a man already gone.

Kate smoothed his collar with trembling hands. “I guess you’re right. I’ll try to see the bright side.”

"I know I'm right." Dan picked up his car keys. "Lucia is fine. Now pass me my bag. No quiero llegar tarde (I don't want to be late)."

He kissed her forehead quickly out of habit and closed the door behind him.

Kate stood alone in the bedroom, listening to the silence.

He doesn't see it, she thought. He never sees anything until it's bleeding.

Later that afternoon at Parque de los Venados (Deer Park).

The sun was a white fist in the sky. Golden light filtered through the jacaranda trees, but to Lucia, it felt like interrogation lighting. The fountain splashed. Children screamed. A vendor called out "¡Esquites! ¡Elotes!" (Cup of corn! Corn on the cob!). The world was going about its business, indifferent to her unraveling.

Lucia sat motionless on a bench with her back to a flowering bush, facing the main path. Her legs were folded beneath her slende and trembling hidden under a white sundress that stuck to her skin.

She had been waiting for one hour and forty-seven minutes. She knew the number because she had counted every single one. Manuel's promise had dissolved into the afternoon heat like a lie in acid.

Her breathing was shallow, her face was hard and pale beneath the makeup. Her fingernails had carved half-moons into her palms.

The Voice was in a strange mood today.
‘He’s not coming,’ it said flatly. ‘You already knew that. He’s probably inside someone else right now.’

"Shut up." Lucia whispered it to the air.

‘Make me.’

She didn't answer she was watching a couple on the bench across from her. Young and stupid. Their tongues were in each other's mouths. His hand was up her skirt, her hand was down his pants. They were grinding like animals in plain sight, like the world owed them this performance.

Lucia watched with sick fascination as the Voice purred.

‘Look at them,’ the voice said. ‘So happy. So free. They don't know yet. They don't know what happens when love turns its back and shows its teeth.’

Lucia's stomach turned. A hot coil of something jealousy? hunger? sickness? pulsed in her gut.

‘Are you jealous?’ The voice almost laughed. ‘Don't be pathetic, mija (girl). You had that once. With Manuel. Before he realized you were crazy.’

"I'm not crazy."

‘Then why are you talking to me?’

Lucia bit her lip. Drew blood. The taste was copper and shame.

She folded her legs tighter hiding her face in her hands. The sun burned the back of her neck that sweat trickled down her spine. The world smelled like grass and dog shit and the faint sweetness of rotting fruit from a trash can nearby.

She stayed like that for a long time. Long enough for the couple to finish and wander off, long enough for the old domino players to start their third game and long enough for the shadows to stretch like lazy fat cats.

Then came the happy barking of a small dog.
She looked up lifting her head and saw Sara Mendoza.

Sara Mendoza was walking a small white fluffball of a dog a Bichon Frisé or something equally ridiculous on a pink leash. The dog was bouncing, yapping, sniffing every blade of grass like it held the secrets of the universe.

But Lucia wasn't looking at the dog. She saw looking at Sara’s yellow sundress, her golden hair catching the light and sandals with heels that could kill a man if she aimed right.

She was an all-metal blonde with a build that did something to your blood pressure. A figure that weakened knees and vows. Her smile was wide, white and expensive. That effortless, wind-chime laugh as she checked something on her phone.

“Ay, Dios mío” (Oh, my God), the voice breathed almost reverent at the dog. “Look at that.”

Sara’s yellow sundress caught the light like honey, her face a study in symmetry, high cheekbones, full lips, eyes the color of cinnamon. She walked with her shoulders back and her chin high, not like she was trying to impress anyone but like she had forgotten that impressing people was even a thing. She moved like the world was gentle with her and like she had never needed to beg for scraps of affection.

‘She's beautiful,’ the voice said. Soft and almost sad. ‘Tan hermosa (So beautiful). Look at her. She doesn't even know she doesn't even try to. That's real confidence and real independence and freedom.’

Lucia's throat tightened.

‘And she's so sweet,’ the voice continued, ‘almost dreamily. Remember? Remember how she always asks about you? How she brings you little gifts? How she listens? She's cheerful and so kind to us. She's everything Manuel probably wishes you still were.’

"Stop it." Lucia's whisper was sharp like a razor and vision blurred. Tears or rage she couldn't tell anymore.

Then Sara looked up and their eyes met.

Sara's face lit up like Christmas. She waved, the little dog yapping excitedly as she approached Lucia, the leash trailing behind her like a pink ribbon.

Sara's voice cut through the air like warm honey. "Lucia. Darling, is that you?"

The hug smelled like expensive citrus perfume and sunlight. Sara sat beside her, legs crossed, dog in her lap, radiating the kind of calm and beauty Lucia could barely remember.

"Hola, chica (Hi, girl). I'm so glad I ran into you." Her smile was genuine and warm. "I tried calling to tell you I'm back from Pachuca, but your phone was apagado (Off)."

She pulled a silk, monogrammed handkerchief from her purse and spread it on the bench, and sat like a queen on a throne, crossed those long, brown legs and the little dog settled in her lap like a fluffy accessory.

Lucia forced a smile but it felt like breaking glass. "I missed you, Sara."

"I missed you too, chica (girl)." Sarah tilted her head. Concern flickered across her perfect face. "What are you doing here all alone?"

Lucia swallowed. The words felt like vomit. "I'm waiting for Manuel. It's been almost two hours."

Sara's expression softened reached out and touched Lucia's hand. Her fingers were warm and soft.

"Oh, darling." Sarah's voice was gentle. "that is so terrible. I'm not sure what Manuel's motives are, but letting you wait here for so long in this heat it is so horrible chica (girl) and no vale la pena (It's not worth it). Trust me."

Lucia's jaw tightened. "How can you say that? You know how much I love him."

Sara's expression flickered but she controlled it quickly. Then the smile returned, brighter than ever. She reached out and touched Lucia's shoulder her fingers were cool and deliberate. “You're right, chica (girl). I'm sorry." Sara squeezed her hand. "I just hate seeing you hurt like this. You deserve better."

“He loves me too I am certain. His just busy with work that’s all”

Sara smiled. "I don't mean to offend you. I'm Manuel's best friend, and I know him very well." A pause. The pivot of a woman who knew exactly where she was steering. "Anyway… have you had any luck with employment?"

The change of topic was so smooth Lucia almost didn't notice.

"Not yet. I've handed in several applications. Nada. Not one response."

"Too bad." Sara leaned in conspiratorial and warm. "But you know my offer is still open. Helping me at the flower shop in Colonia Roma. And please, por favor, don't say no again."

Lucia shook her head. "I appreciate it, Sara. Really. But I can't accept. I'll keep trying my luck.”

Sara's eyes narrowed just a fraction, then softened again. "Alright. It's fine. If you change your mind, the shop will be waiting for you."

They talked for a while then Sara stood up. The dog wiggled. She checked her phone.

"Instead of sitting here getting sunburned, why don't you come with me? One of my friends is throwing a party in La Condesa. Drinks. Music. People who don't talk about ex-boyfriends." She winked. "It'll be fun. Te va a gustar (You'll like it)."

Lucia hesitated. "What if Manuel shows up?"

Sarah laughed. That wind-chime laugh. "Ay, por favor (Oh, please). If he wanted to come, he'd be here. Two hours, chica (girl). Dos horas (Two hours)." She bent down and looked Lucia in the eyes. "Tomorrow, I'll go to his office myself and confront him. Lo encaro (I'll confront him). I'll make sure he makes it up to you. Trust me. He always listens to me."

Lucia looked at Sara's perfect face. Her kind eyes and her easy smile drew her in.

‘Why can't I be more like her?’ the voice asked. But it wasn't the voice anymore. It was Lucia.

She took Sara's hand. "I guess you're right. You're a great friend, Sara."

Sara hugged her tightly and warm while the dog yapped between them.

"Don't thank me yet, chica (girl). I'm just trying to help."

They walked out of the park together. Arm in arm two beautiful women in the afternoon light.

The voice was silent not because it had nothing to say because it was watching Sara's hips sway and thinking: I want to be her. I want to crawl inside her skin and wear it like a dress.