4. Back to Hell

Sara leaned against the door and cried.

It couldn’t be possible that after so many years the feelings she had for him had not disappeared. Deep down she knew it—she knew she still loved him despite everything. But she had never imagined she would see him again. Not even when she returned to the city had she feared she might run into him. She always tried to avoid the places where she might possibly encounter him, but she had never imagined he would be the man at the bachelor party.

When she stopped crying and the memories stopped tormenting her, she stood up and walked toward the designs. She had to finish two dresses that same afternoon. Those would allow her to live for at least one week; after that they would see what else they could manage.

She was working on them, trying not to think about Emiliano and the fact that he could take her children away from her if she didn’t accept the proposal to design for Casa Monter, when the door opened. Her sister Sofía and her children came in with their school uniforms on.

"What are you doing here so early?" she scolded them.

Sofía slipped her hands into the pockets of her skirt while the little girl ran to hug her mother.

"The thing is, we were suspended because we did something bad. But don’t worry, they’ll let us study at home for a week and then we’ll go back."

Sara crossed her arms, then looked at her son, who lowered his gaze.

"Mommy… they didn’t let us in because you haven’t paid the tuition."

The boy’s aunt scolded him.

"I’m sorry, sister. I didn’t want to tell you the truth so you wouldn’t feel pressured. But it doesn’t matter! I can teach Mael and Mara from home."

But Sara shook her head.

"And who will teach you? You’re about to graduate. You can’t afford to lose this year."

She turned her back so they wouldn’t see how her eyes filled with tears. She looked around her house with its stains and damp walls.

Returning to Casa Monter could be hell. The reasons she had left that place were many, but perhaps it could be different. When she married Emiliano, they had lived in his house together with his family. Working at the company could be different—it was another environment, another place. So she wiped her tears and blew her nose into her apron.

"Don’t worry. Everything will be fine," she told them. "Sofía, help me finish these dresses. Tomorrow I have a job interview."

"Don’t tell me you’re finally going to leave your career as an exotic dancer," the girl asked happily.

But Sara didn’t answer.

They spent the rest of the morning and the afternoon finishing the dresses. When night came, Sara picked up the phone and pressed it against her ear.

She remembered the company’s number perfectly, but then she shook her head. If she was going to earn that position, she would do it legally. So she hung up again, picked up the notebooks with her designs, and looked at them. Of course she could win it. It wasn’t the best moment to return, but what else could she do?

The main reason she had abandoned Emiliano was no longer in that country. Things, she imagined, must have already changed.

So the next morning she put on her prettiest dress—the one with yellow flowers that reached mid-calf—braided her hair, applied her makeup in a very modest way, and counted the coins for public transportation.

When she arrived at the company, she hugged the notebook tightly against her chest. When she had been married to Emiliano, she hadn’t gone there many times, but the few times she had crossed that door had been a true hell.

The doorman let her in, and Sara walked forward. She didn’t want to run into anyone from her former life, at least not that day.

When she reached the third floor, she stepped out of the elevator and saw a huge, long line filled with all kinds of people wearing very flashy clothes. They were obviously the candidates hoping to become the designers for Casa Monter, so Sara moved to the back of the line and remained silent.

The minutes began to pass. One by one, people were called into the conference room, and then they came out crying or looking devastated. The company’s designer was one of the most important positions in the business, and Sara knew that decision was made by the full board—a thought that terrified her. But she was already there. She couldn’t turn back now.

After a while, she watched in horror as one of Emiliano’s sisters came out of the elevator. She was accompanied by her other sister—they were identical triplets. Sara had once been able to tell them apart, but many years had passed, so now she couldn’t say which one was which.

She covered her face with the notebook so they wouldn’t see her, but the women stopped in front of everyone and looked over each designer with amusement.

"I can’t believe we have to do this. I find it humiliating. Casa Monter should hire an excellent haute couture designer, not conduct interviews like this as if we were hiring a secretary."

Clearly, from the tone of voice and the arrogance, it was Luna.

When she passed by Sara’s side, she hit her shoulder accidentally—or perhaps not so accidentally.

Sara’s notebook fell to the floor and rolled away. Sara ran after it, picked it up from the ground, lifted it, and when she turned around she found herself face to face with Luna.

She was tall like her brother Emiliano. All three sisters had dark hair and green eyes.

"You!" the woman shouted the moment she saw her. "You," she repeated angrily as she realized her mind wasn’t deceiving her and that she was truly seeing the woman in front of her. "What are you doing here, you damn whore?"

Sara tried to open her mouth to defend herself, but the woman stepped closer to her. In one swift movement she grabbed Sara by the hair and began dragging her toward the elevator.

"You’re never setting foot in my company again, you stupid bitch. How dare you come back into our lives? I’m going to drag you out of here."

She began pulling Sara by the hair toward the elevator, and just when Sara was about to fight back—about to dig her nails into her face—a firm, authoritative voice shouted from the distance.

"Let her go. Now."

Both women froze and turned to see Emiliano Monter, furious, walking toward them.