The dim kitchen light flickered once before going dark again, leaving the hallway cloaked in shadows. A faint rustle caught Lidia’s breath in her throat. She had been halfway to the back gate, her small bag clutched to her chest, heart pounding so hard she was sure it could be heard. Then—click. The overhead light snapped on. The sudden brightness stabbed her eyes, and when her vision cleared, Amelia stood framed in the kitchen doorway. Her face was twisted in fury, jaw tight, eyes like sharpened glass. “Where,” she hissed, “do you think you’re going?” Lidia froze, blood draining from her face. She’d been so careful, tiptoeing in silence, timing her steps to the creaks of the old floorboards. But Rosario—her aunt, her warden, her tormentor—was here, and there was no escaping the trap in her voice. Earlier that night, Rosario had woken feeling thirsty. She’d called for Lidia three times to fetch her water, but the house had remained silent. Irritated, she’d gone to the kitchen he
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