Six months later.
The cemetery was quiet that morning. The grass was green thanks to the recent September rains.
Joaquín knelt before the gray marble gravestone.
He wiped away some dust with a rag he carried in his back pocket.
*Marisol Hernández Rangel*
*Beloved wife and mother.*
—Hi, skinny —Joaquin said softly.
She placed a bouquet of sunflowers, her favorites.
She remained silent for a moment, listening to the wind in the trees.
—It’s all over now. Your mom… well, you know she’s with you. We put her plaque next to yours last week, when the paperwork was finalized. Now they can both rest.
Joaquín touched his chest. The scar from the electrical burn on his arm, a reminder of that night in the hospital, hardly hurt anymore.
Maldonado’s never going to get out. Valeria says they gave him forty years. And we recovered some of the money. Not much, but enough. Óscar got a job at another bank, you know how stubborn he is.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
Joaquín turned around.
Camila was running towards him, her school uniform immaculate and her braids neatly done. Behind her, Valeria walked slowly, giving them space.
“Dad!” Camila shouted, hugging him around the neck.
—Hi, my love. Did you say hi to Mom?
—Yes. I told him I got a perfect score in math. And that we’re not afraid anymore.
Joaquín smiled and kissed her forehead.
“That’s right. We’re not afraid anymore.”
He stood up and looked at the grave one last time. The promise had changed. It wasn’t about money anymore. It wasn’t about supporting a ghostly mother-in-law.
The promise was to live. To live well, with his head held high, raising that little girl who had the same smile as the woman he loved.
“Let’s go, Dad. Valeria said she’s treating us to pizza,” Camila said, pulling him by the hand.
Joaquín looked at Valeria, who was waiting on the path with a calm smile.
“Oh, really?” Joaquín winked at his daughter. “Well, if she’s paying, we’ll order the large one.”
They walked together toward the exit, leaving the shadows behind, walking toward the midday sunlight that, at last, warmed without burning.
Joaquín Hernández, an electrical technician, had fixed the biggest short circuit of his life. And now, the current flowed cleanly.
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